Nobody's Savior
by ShadowBat48
Summary: Darren is now Renegade, working alongside Batman and the other members of the Batfamily. But fear of the Court still weighs heavily on Darren along with a new threat and new truths that endangers not only Darren but anyone by his side. Is it worth it to truly be on the heroes' side or will Darren need to become something darker to save those he cares for? Sequel to Nobody's Weapon
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Yay! Here it is! I'm so excited! I am actually really ahead in this story, I'm on chapter twelve already! I have so many plans and it's going to be awesome! So...yeah, I was a dummy and thought the 18th was a Friday but it's a Thursday so I guess I'm posting on Thursdays now until further notice! So yeah, as with any story it'll start off a bit slow with some annoying bits of recap of things you already know if you read the first story...this is just so that if someone reads it they realize something big has happened and will go find the first story to read before continuing with this one.

Anyways, as promised here's the first chapter and the second chapter of this story!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 1

Darren sat on the edge of a rooftop in the center of Gotham City. Shivering slightly in his cloak. He stiffly pulled it tighter around his shoulders. His movements had been sluggish all night because of the cold and he did not like the feeling it gave him. Winter was awful. He used to love the snow and the cold, but now that he was a Talon—an undead (ex)assassin for the Court of Owls—the cold shut him down. It froze him like a statue if exposed to it without proper layers or protection, a Talon could shatter because of the cold. He'd seen it happen once, and it was not pretty or inviting. His Renegade suit, the mantle he took up after proving to Batman—Bruce Wayne—he could behave and not kill anyone, was insulated but this particular night was a frigid one so he was forced to wear the black cloak that was heated like those electronic blankets people used.

Sitting around didn't help much. Not at all. But he was on probation, even though it had been nearly a week and a half since he started working with the Bats, and couldn't go off on his own…not yet. He still needed to prove himself, they'd only just let him bring his dual blades on patrol with him. There had been a long and extensive argument about that. While it was a risk to let an assassin who was just learning to be nonlethal out on patrol in a city full of people with weapons, Bruce and Damian—the ones who were training him, with the occasional help from his cousin Dick and Tim or better known as Nightwing and Red Robin—figured it was better for him to have them in case the Court attack. They were still slighted that Darren refused to obey them and that he had slaughtered a significant number of their members, Talons and Owls—the ones in command of the Court—alike.

They still wanted Darren. They wanted to control him, make him their assassin again…or they wanted to kill him. Darren didn't know which and neither did his contact within the Court, Malik, or Calvin—another Talon who was Darren's friend and who had also escaped the Court—who has been MIA since he helped save his life weeks ago. And speaking of MIA, his father still hasn't contacted him since they talked before Dick barged in on their conversation. His father and cousin hated each other, for many reasons known and unknown to Darren. Slade Wilson, or commonly known as Deathstroke a feared and highly wanted mercenary, was his father. He and Dick had history—the rather unpleasant kind of history. Darren was slightly relieved his parents hadn't been married, otherwise Slade would be Dick's uncle by marriage and he didn't want to see Dick's reaction to that. The thought still brought a small grin to his face,

 _"Are you still there?"_ came a gruff voice through the phone in his hand,

"Yes," he stated gruffly. Technically there were no phones allowed on patrol, but Darren needed his that night so he snuck it with him, not only because he needed help but because he was bored out of his mind. This person wasn't on their comm device frequency all the time either,

 _"Then make it quick kid. I need to tail this mob boss and if I have you yapping in my ear I'll lose him,"_ Jason Todd growled from somewhere in the city below…or somewhere else entirely. The—sort of—pariah of the Bats never really let the other members in on where he went and what he did,

"Didn't know you were so distractible, very unprofessional,"

 _"Kid,"_ Jason growled angrily. Darren sighed and bit his lip before responding,

"I need help?" he didn't know if that was the right word,

 _"Like help on my algebra homework kind of help or_ help?" Darren rolled his eyes and sighed, running his free hand over his forearm. A subconscious nervous habit he developed after being mercilessly tortured by his great-grandfather. The scars that were cut into his skin were just under the suit and sometimes he unconsciously rubbed at them as if they still hurt him.

In addition to being one of the only other vigilante members that has killed, Jason was also the only one who has _been_ killed. Like Darren himself. Now he unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck, how he had been killed—a snapped neck—he sighed. No matter what, those things never really left him. They bothered him no matter where he was or what he thought and it was tiresome. Jason helped him through the nightmares…or he would more often if Darren actually called him for help. He was still getting used to letting others help him shoulder the burdens he bore, and getting comfort from nightmares was still new to him. He did not have the most emotionally supportive upbringing…or so he'd been told by the others,

"No to either,"

 _"Then what is it?"_

"A favor," that was a better word,

 _"What kind of favor?"_ Darren quickly explained what he had planned for a while now,

 _"Are you sure? There's no going back if you go through with this,"_

"I'm sure,"

 _"I dunno, this seems like something that is irresponsible and not my call to make,"_

"C'mon Jason. It'll help me, it's illegal and it'll piss Dick off. You can't refuse that," silence on the other end, for so long that Darren was worried he'd been caught by the mob boss but then Jason let out a sigh,

 _"Dammit, you know me too well. Fine. Just let me know when this is happening,"_

"Oh…and one other thing,"

 _"What?"_

"What should I get Dick for his birthday?"

"Seriously?"

"Come on, please! I have no idea what to do, I've never had to do something like this before!"

 _"Just get him something with elephants. He likes them,"_

"That's not helpful,"

 _"Then ask someone else…wait…aren't you supposed to be on patrol? You know phones aren't allowed!"_

"Yeah like you follow that rule,"

 _"I follow my rules, you follow Bruce's that's the deal you made. When you're older you can patrol anyway you want but as of now, you want to play by Bruce's rules because you don't want to kill anyone—even if they_ do _deserve it,"_

"Jason," Darren muttered rolling his eyes, "Yes I'm on patrol…well, I'm _supposed_ to be," Darren muttered glumly,

 _"What's up? Did Bruce bench you for tearing someone in half?"_ Darren ignored the reference to his enhanced strength, speed and agility,

"No. I'm partnered with Tim and he's doing 'recon' and told me to sit here, be quiet and wait for him to come back. I mean, I'm an _assassin_ I _know_ how to be quiet and I know how to collect information without being caught,"

 _"Tim's a perfectionist and despite working on a team with a bunch of teenage superheroes he's not that used to working with people, or having to babysit someone,"_ Darren decided to ignore that statement,

"Yeah well it's annoying and belittling,"

 _"Wow, big words for a dyslexic,"_

"Shut up," Darren growled, rolling his eyes,

 _"Just teasing, relax,"_ Darren heard someone land lightly on the roof behind him,

"Got to go. Good luck tailing the mob boss,"

 _"Kick some ass kid,"_ with that Darren stood up and faced the person behind him. It was a Talon, but one he knew as a friend not an enemy,

"Malik," he said, his breath dancing in front of him. Darren pulled the hood of his cloak over his head more so his ears were covered.

"Novice," that's all he ever called him. Like his father and cousin, he and Malik had a rocky history though as of now they were allies and it was never to the degree of Slade and Dick's hatred for one another,

"Do you have what I asked for?"

"It was not easy to get and I don't even want to know why you need it, but yes," he pulled out a small vial filled with reddish liquid. Darren grimaced at the sight of it, his old wounds stinging as if remembering what it felt like to have that poison racing through his veins. For a Talon there were three chemical drugs that encompassed their life: Electrum, the Serum and the Cure. Electrum was what made them Talons. It brought them back from the dead with enhanced abilities and an extended, virtually ageless, life. The Serum is what poisoned or killed them, fast or slow it all depended on the concentration. And finally the Cure, which saved them from the fate of the Serum, though it took a while to take affect and to flush out the Serum. Darren had experienced all three and survived, plus Mirakuru, a drug biologically inherited from his father which added to his abilities,

"Thank you," he said taking the vial carefully from the older Talon and putting it in one of the compartments of the belt around his waist,

"This life seems to fit you well," Malik said, "It is good to see you less…unhappy,"

"Yeah. Thanks I guess. You should get going, you don't want anyone to see you talking to me,"

"What do you want with the Serum?" Malik asked, not leaving without answers it seemed,

"I need to for myself,"

"What do you plan on doing?" for some reason it seemed Malik was concerned all of the sudden,

"I'm not going to kill myself," Darren stated dryly, "I want to get a tattoo," he'd been considering it even before becoming Renegade, but he thought that once he'd settled into that role the oppressive feeling of the scar's message would go away, but it hasn't. It's become stronger, his self-doubt along with it,

"What?" Malik stated, _"Why?"_ Darren understood Malik's confusion. Talons developed mutated, deteriorated black veins in various locations on their body a month or two after becoming a Talon. It was a nasty side effect from the Electrum and being brought back from the dead. Darren, having not only the Electrum in his blood stream but Mirakuru didn't develop those mutated veins-something he was thankful for. But to Malik there was no point in creating _more_ ink colored swirls and designs on the skin, that was why he thought it was a ridiculous thing to do,

"To hide my scars, I don't want to be reminded of the Court every time I see them. I want to remember that freedom is a gift and that I am lucky to have it and I should not waste it," Malik stared at him for a moment before shaking his head,

"And you think covering them with a tattoo will do that? I don't think I'll ever understand your generation or you for that matter. Do what you like, just don't kill yourself in the process, you know what that poison can do,"

"I won't, now go, Red Robin's on his way I can hear him coming back," with an eye roll and huff of a breath Malik was gone leaving Darren alone on the rooftop,

"How did recon go?" Darren asked as Tim landed on the roof a few paces away, trying not to sound too annoyed at being left behind,

"There's drug business going down, fear toxin and vertigo by the looks of it, at the harbor. Scarecrow isn't there yet and I think we should step in,"

"I hate drugs," Darren agreed, "let's do it," with a sly grin on both their faces they started off towards the sound of trouble.

* * *

A/N: Yay, first chapter down! You guys know the drill! Any questions, comments, concerns and/or criticisms leave a review or PM moi! I am really looking forward to you thoughts on the first chapter of this story!

REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here's the second chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 2

Darren was jumping on the tumble track when Bruce walked into the training room down in the Batcave the next morning. Darren chose to ignore him until he walked over to where he was,

"Did you finish school for the day?" Bruce asked him. Darren continued jumping, stalling his answer. He knew Bruce already knew the answer to that. Technically he'd already gotten his GED, but due to the fact that it was probably fake and they didn't have any proof that he took it, he had to still get educated. He was a minor afterall and it was the law. He could take the GED test again, but honestly Darren didn't think he'd do as well as he did before. It had been hard enough when he took it the first time and again, it was probably faked or something. Bruce had suggested homeschooling, so that's what Darren agreed to. It was better this way, no one would get hurt or held hostage for knowing him or having him in their school. While the Court couldn't touch him while the custody case is pending, they could still get to him through other means. Being home-schooled was the safest thing to do. The only issue was that Darren did not like school that much. It was never really easy for him, he was dyslexic and while he was smart in his own right, it was difficult for him.

Homeschooling wasn't all that bad though. For one he could work on whatever he wanted, as long as he completed the appropriate classes and labs within the school year and of course he didn't fail. He could stop the videos whenever he wanted and go back if he missed something. But he also got bored, he just sat in the manor for the duration of the schooling session. Darren threw a back flip, and Bruce's frown deepened. He was annoyed Darren was ignoring him,

 _"Darren,"_ he nearly growled. Darren glowered down at him still jumping,

"I got bored," he stated simply, flipping forward this time,

"You know the rules,"

"I know the rules _you_ agreed to," Darren didn't exactly want to antagonize Bruce, but he knew the older man didn't trust him. He'd put him through a grueling and demeaning simulation test to see if he could control the killer instinct he'd been raised with but also set him up to fail by raising the levels of the robots he fought higher and higher. He'd also used a dog whistle on him, knowing it would incapacitate him due to his enhanced hearing which was painful and embarrassing. Though Bruce did offer him an olive branch of peace by letting him become Renegade, even if he was on probation. Bruce sighed,

"You can come down here when you finish for the day. Just get the work done and you can come back down. You know you'll be benched, like any of the other boys, if you fall behind on assignments or your grades drop," he said evenly, "If you are stuck on math Tim will gladly help you when he comes home from school," Darren slowed his bouncing before huffing out a breath,

"Fine," was all he said before jumping to the ground and marching out of the Batcave. Once upstairs he settled himself in the corner of the L shaped couch in the main living room with his computer, notebook and headphones but didn't immediately start working on history, like he had been before deciding to take a break. He instead looked up how much it would cost to get a tattoo, and he'd probably have to pay double because he wasn't eighteen yet…though he could probably pass as such, he was tall for his age.

The main issue was that he technically didn't have any money. He had an inheritance but he couldn't touch that until he was twenty-one and everything had usually been taken care of for him, even by the Court and the Powers—the despicable family that took him in per request of a fake will planted by the Court to get him in the clutches of their allies. He was supposed to be taken in by the Drakes, yet that didn't happen. With a sigh he loaded up the next video of his history lesson for the day and continued with school. He knew how to solve the money problem but didn't like what it entailed. There was only one place that would have the money he needed: _Crowne Manor_. Darren would so get benched for this as he would have to get the money during patrol, but if it eased his conscious about his scars, then it would be worth it.

* * *

Darren kicked the padlock off the front doors of Crowne Manor, but did not push the doors open or entered. It was strange to be back here. He hadn't been here since he was five, but it still looked familiar. It was large, just as big as Wayne Manor, though the crest on the doors and gates leading to the house was very different. He'd taken care of all the alarms, they shouldn't go off when he entered. Though he may not be the best at hacking, and was pretty slow at it, he still got the job done. Tim would've been impressed if he hadn't ditched him halfway to their patrol quadrant, Tim had probably told Batman by this point and they were out looking for him. He'd turned off his comm device before patrol started, so he didn't know what the others were saying or doing. Perhaps he was going to extreme lengths to get this tattoo done, but he needed this. He couldn't bear the feeling of helplessness looking at his old wounds gave him, it would make him a liability on patrol. The feeling his wounds gave him brought him back _there_ , to the Court. Trapped on his stomach while William carved into his back, taunting him and laughing as he did so. Darren shook his head hard, forcing the thoughts out. It hadn't used to bother him to this degree, but ever since he started out as Renegade, he had been constantly wondering how long it would last before William was proven right. With a deep breath, Darren pushed open the doors to Crowne Manor.

Everything was covered in white cloth. The walls decorated with paintings and the walls adorned with covered statues. The wooden floor creaked as Darren stepped forward, letting the doors click shut behind him. Everything was dark and the creaks and groans from the house settling echoed loudly throughout the mansion. It sounded like muffled wailing to Darren as he took another step forward. Everything was covered in dust, it filtered down from the chandeliers above him and caused his senses to flair up. His eyes watered and he felt a sneeze coming on. But he closed his eyes and fought the urges, he just needed to find the safe. The safe was where a lot of the Crowne fortune was. The rest of it was in the bank of course, building up interest and waiting for Darren to come of age. But some of it was here and he only needed a bare minimum of it to get what he needed. It was a heavy duty safe with a dozen silent alarms, but if Darren remembered the code he could get into it. It occurred to him that the Court could have broken in and taken it, but then why would they need him in the first place? Perhaps they weren't as dishonorable as Darren thought, or there was more protecting his finances than just a safe.

Darren started up the stairs, his ears twitching at the simplest of noises, his blue-grey eyes sweeping over every inch of the building. He took everything in. He had run down these halls on unsteady legs, he trailed after his mother as she wandered from room to room and sat on the chairs by the grand fireplace with his grandfather for the short while he'd been alive after Darren had been born. He didn't like the feeling it gave him. Some sort of nostalgia mixed with sadness. It didn't feel like a home anymore. It felt like a tomb, where the ghosts of the past walked and wandered through a home they once enjoyed. It felt empty. He did not like being here. But Darren continued on, he needed to find that safe. He knew it was behind a painting, he remembered it from his five year old memories. They were locked up tight in the past, but he remembered glimpses of this place. The memories almost seemed like dreams now though, like they hadn't really happened at all. But the memories of his mother always appeared the brightest and he knew time wouldn't wear those away…at least he hoped it wouldn't.

Darren turned down the corner and found a painting at the end of the hall. The one of his great-great grandfather. He looked stern and unhappy, and Darren figured it was painted after Amelia had revealed she was pregnant with Dick's grandfather, it was said that he was never truly the same. The 'shame' they kept a secret really wore him down—or perhaps it was something else, unknown to the rest of the family and Gotham that was wearing him down in soul, mind and body—and he died soon after the baby was born, but before William stole the child and took him to Haly's Circus. Few knew what really happened to him, Darren knew it was William who had killed him and the Court who had covered it up as some unknown illness.

He suddenly heard a rather loud creak and stopped, his hands reaching towards his swords and he stayed still as the covered up statues in the house. No sound followed so he moved towards the safe again and tugged the painting down from the wall and stared at the face of the safe. Darren didn't really know what to expect, he'd thought the code would just come to him like some memories did sometimes, but nothing came. He bit back a curse, frustrated with himself. Of course he wouldn't remember the code to the safe. And even if he did it would just get rearranged in his head. He wasn't good with ordered numbers, they switched every time he looked away and then back to the page. Darren started off back down the hall, searching for a piece of paper with numbers on it, a file in the office…anything. But found nothing. He stormed back the way he came and turned another corner, ready to search the next hallway only to freeze. Darren stood staring at a door near the middle of the hallway. He remembered that door vividly. He _knew_ that room.

Entranced Darren walked towards it and pushed the door lightly. It creaked open, the locking mechanism had been destroyed. He remembered that. It was _his_ room afterall back before he'd been taken by William to the Court. The room was exactly how he had left it. A mess, filled with toys and plushies, a child's easel, a toy set, legos, action figures of all sorts as well as coloring books scattered all around. A dresser stood against the wall and he could see the clothes of a five year old poking through. His bed was shoved in the corner to the left of the dresser, the way he insisted it be so he'd have more room to play. It was a twin bed, not the large one he slept in when he had lived with the Talons and now with the Bats. A green comforter, like the one he chose at Wayne Manor was pulled tightly over dinosaur covered sheets. A thin layer of dust covered everything, like the rest of the house.

Darren stood in the center of the room, unsure what to do and unsure as to why he came in here. He turned on the spot, taking everything in. All the toys, the pictures tacked onto the wall of child drawings and finger-painted pieces of artwork. The green curtains were open, letting the moonlight spill onto the dark green carpet in the center of the room. All at once it was too much. All at once he felt so many things. Nostalgia, pain, the bittersweet feeling of happiness and fondness for the memories he had in this room. He could see himself in his mind's eye playing with each of his toys, running around through the legs of his mother, or any staff member or adult that had come to the mansion. He could see himself coloring diligently in the corner by the window in the sun and all at once he couldn't remember if he was here or there— _then_.

But he also remembered fear. He remembered that terrible night, after the car accident when the police whisked him back home to await further orders on his predicament when there were loud noises and crashes below, and the people he'd grown up around as well as the police members who escorted him home yelling and screaming downstairs. He remembered feeling so alone and sad and frightened and those emotions overwhelmed him. Darren remembered crawling under the bed, pulling his stuffed animal monkey with him and whimpering softly in fear until the door was kicked open—that was how the lock broke, it was rendered useless by the kick—and a tall, armored man with a mask shaped like an owl's head stepped into the room and yanked him out from under the bed by his hair—while he kicked and screamed and fought to get free—and then roughly grabbed him by the arm, keeping him still,

 _"Pack a bag child,"_ the voice of William Cobb had hissed, _"You're coming with us."_ And Darren remembered feeling helpless, for he had no other choice so he had done what he was told. He remembered being tugged down the hallways and stairs. He remembered seeing the blood and the bodies and the other Talons moving them around for the cleaners who would be coming in after they were gone to make everything spotless again, he remembered the horror he felt at seeing such gruesomeness. They would erase anything they had done in this manor. No one would know what really happened, only what the Court told them.

Darren blinked and stumbled back a step, slamming into the dresser. He shook his head, he didn't remember moving from the center of the room. He'd been lost in his memories, and he hadn't remembered something that clearly from back then in a while. Those people…all the people who had worked for his family for years, those cops…they were all dead because of him. He'd _forgotten_ about them. He'd forgotten whether they had family members. Whether they were sons or daughters, mothers or fathers, brothers or sisters…he'd _forgotten_ them all. Darren took a shuddering breath, and then another…and another and it suddenly felt like the room was spinning, or closing in on him…or both. Was…was he having a panic attack? He didn't know for sure, Dick was usually there to deduce that was the issue, someone was usually _there,_ or at least now there was someone there. He never really had these kinds of issues before...but now he was around people who encouraged showing emotion and discussing things that bothered them. But now he was alone again…and he didn't know what to do. Darren slumped down to the floor and jerked his head between his knees and tried to calm himself and his breathing...that's what Dick tells him to do usually. _Close your eyes and breathe slowly...try and be calm, be calm, be calm._ He closed his eyes, but then opened them instead focusing on the grain in the wood on the floor. Trying to think of anything other than the past,

"Darren?" A voice asked. He jerked away from the voice on his left, scrambling away from the dresser until he bumped into the bed before he realized it was Tim standing over him. Darren didn't even hear him throughout the house, or hear him come into the room,

"T-Tim?" he demanded, "W-what are you doing here,"

"I think I should be asking you that question," Red Robin muttered, he was glaring at him and Darren instantly felt bad about ditching him,

"I'm sorry," he said,

"You know it's technically illegal for you to come here, at least right now. Until you're twenty-one the grounds are private to everyone, including you and including us," he meant the Bats when he said 'us,'

"I needed to come here,"

"For what?" he questioned, "You broke dozens of rules, not to mention got me into a near panic trying to find you, thankfully you didn't destroy your comm device and I could track it. You're lucky no one else thought to try and check the tracker in the comm and then manually turn it back on when they realized it was off. Dick would have never forgiven me if something had happened to you. You should be getting your ass handed to you by Bruce for this but _I_ didn't tell him or anyone, so you tell me _right now_ why you are here,"

"I needed to get into the safe," Tim stared at him with disbelief,

"You came back to this mansion…to _steal_ from your own safe,"

"It's _my_ money," Darren growled, his breathing finally resettling, "it's not stealing,"

"What for. You could have come to us with this, you shouldn't have to pay for something on your own,"

"I couldn't. This is…well…it's kind of illegal," Tim sighed,

"What are you talking about. Why do you need this money, be honest with me Darren. Let me understand what's going on. You've been on edge since you've become Renegade— _don't_ deny it, I can tell—isn't this what you wanted?"

"Of course it is!" it was the truth, "But…I've just been wondering how long it will last,"

"Probation won't be forever—,"

"—not that," Darren hissed reluctantly...he didn't enjoy talking about his feelings or internal struggles it irked him still, but Tim gave him no choice, "Just…me _being_ Renegade,"

"It'll last however long you want it to," he said simply,

"I'm not like you guys. I've killed before and sooner or later I'll probably do it again," Darren muttered bitterly,

"What makes you think that? Do you want to kill again?"

"No!" Darren looked away, down at the patch of moonlight on the floor, _"William,"_ he hissed afterwards in answer to Tim's first question,

"He can't touch you Darren. Not while the trial is pending, it would look bad for the Powers if something happened to you,"

"He's still there," Darren insisted gesturing at his back, "These scars, they're _reminders,"_

"Of what?" Tim asked, sitting down across from him, lightly picking up a toy dinosaur and inspecting it,

"That I'll always be an outsider, that I'll always be the one who kills and that I'll never be free. That the Court owns me," Darren recited painfully, resting his chin on his knees,

"That's bullshit. The Court doesn't _own_ you, you're _not_ their property. That's not how anything works. You're a _person,"_

"That's how it is to them,"

"It doesn't have to be," Tim stated softly, "I can't imagine what it was like growing up there, or even going through what you did…what they made you do, what they _did_ to you, but don't let them win," Darren shrugged,

"We can remove the scars…usually we don't mind. It reminds us that what we do isn't painless, and that we are still just human and that overall what hurts us saves other people's lives. Though we do remove facial scars—they're too noticeable. We can do the same if they're causing you this much distress,"

"No! That's not what I want to do, I don't want to be a coward,"

"It's not cowardly to want them gone," Tim stated firmly,

"But I still want them to be a reminder…but a better one, a reminder that it's _my_ choice whether or not I'm free and whether or not I'll kill again. That it's my decision what these scars mean,"

"So what will you do…that's illegal…to do that?"

"I'm going to get a tattoo," Darren explained simply, "But I don't want Dick to know, or Bruce. They'd probably freak and give me some long lecture about how there's no going back and I'm too young yada yada yada…so I did all this. I needed the money and the safe is the only thing I could think of. Go ahead and tell me it was a stupid plan,"

"It's not stupid…but it was stupid of you to think you'd remember the code after ten years of nothing but training and not living here. Not to mention…you were _five,"_

"Thanks," Darren muttered dryly,

"C'mon," Tim declared standing up, "I'll help you get it open," Darren lifted his head in disbelief,

"You're helping me?"

"If this eases your mind, then yes. You don't deserve to deal with doubts and fears of failing at something you want to do, and if getting a tattoo helps you with that then it's definitely a worthy cause,"

"Thank you," Darren said standing,

"Don't mention it," Tim replied, surveying the room one last time, "It's a nice room. Not too grand, seems you got to decorate it however you wanted. I didn't get that so my room in Drake Manor is pretty bleak," Darren often forgot that Tim had lived in a Manor just down the road from him years ago. It had always seemed like he had been a member of Wayne Manor,

"Yeah," Darren replied, looking at the room again, hoping the memories and the feelings he had before didn't come back, "It was pretty great," he agreed,

"The lock's broken it's the only one in the house that's like that," Tim mused, "I wonder what caused it,"

"William broke it," Darren stated mutely before stepping past Tim and out into the hallway. He briefly had a snippet of a memory, the halls splattered with blood before he blinked and it was gone. He shook his head,

"I don't want to come back here," he said out loud, and continued back the way he'd come before Tim could say anything.

Tim expertly hacked the safe, without tripping any alarms in place, and Darren took a few stacks of hundreds, whatever he had extra of he'd save for later—who knew what he'd need his own money for—before both he and Tim left through the front door. Darren had flashbacks of memories that had been locked away in his head as they walked back through the manor. Some were good memories, of happier and brighter times…but most were from the night he was taken by William and they were an unpleasant stain on the mansion's memory to Darren. As Tim finished soldering the padlock back together Darren again muttered,

"I don't want to ever come back here," Before he turned and started for his motorcycle, eager for the rest of their patrol to continue.

* * *

A/N: So some more insight on Darren's past and some of his locked away memories from when he was five that he didn't even realize he had, and a plan is in motion! Let me know what you think the Tat's gonna be of, you may be right you may be wrong but I kinda feel I laid it on a little to thick what it's going to be. I also feel that Darren would be a little irritable around Bruce because of the simulation fight and the dog whistle...which shows that Bruce still doesn't trust him so Darren doesn't trust him back because of that event.

Let me know your thoughts, opinions and idea! I love to hear them! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW

Next chapter on Thursday!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Oh my God, Cassandra Clare, you ripped my heart out with that cliffhanger. How dare you! Sorry, anyway:

Hope you liked the first two chapters! Here is the third! I really hope I get some reviews this time around! I _need_ to know what you guys think! Constructive criticism encouraged as well as any other kinds of comments!

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 3

Tim could tell Bruce knew something had been off in the beginning of patrol. He had that look, the look of pensive questioning and a slight glare. Like he was trying to unravel or deduce some grand scheme set up by some Arkham escapee. Thankfully there hadn't been a breakout during his and Darren's escapade to Crowne Manor, but Tim knew Bruce knew something was up. Surprisingly though, he didn't approach either of them about it. Or at least he didn't say anything to Darren, who headed upstairs much more eagerly than he normally did. Barbara and Stephanie had already left, they headed in early that night on account of Barbara having a meeting in the morning and Steph a test. Dick was sparring with Damian to get any extra adrenaline out of their system and usually Tim would be upstairs and curled up under the covers with his computer researching for certain cases they still had to close after a hot shower but Bruce made eye contact with him and said,

"Tim, a word," he held back a sigh but walked over to his adoptive father. He'd promised Darren he wouldn't say anything—personally he didn't know why the younger boy was keeping this a secret, but he understood his desire to do this on his own. A lot…and by a lot he meant _way_ too much…had happened to him and sometimes in order to get through all that you need to do that on your own. Just because there were others willing to be a shoulder to lean on did not mean you had to take it. They were there when you needed them, but you didn't have to be there for when they offered that support. And sometimes you just didn't want others to comfort you right away and other times you just didn't feel like you deserved to be comforted or needed to talk about what was bothering you. Tim had been there many times, and that was where Darren was. He didn't like letting others help him, he'd been raised to believe that everyone was against him and that the only way to survive was to keep to yourself and to fight for yourself. Now he was surrounded by others who didn't live that way and it was hard to adjust. Therefore Tim will not tell Bruce explicitly what happened and why, rather he would just skirt around the truth,

"Where did he go," Bruce asked, he didn't even clarify the he,

"Who do you mean?" Tim asked, playing dumb. He wanted to see what Bruce had deduced,

" _Darren_. I know he went off grid during patrol and a while later so did you," that was true. Tim, after realizing that Darren had turned every communication device off and had gone completely silent as well as hadn't told him where he was going, had done the same. He felt that Darren wouldn't appreciate it if everyone noticed something was wrong and followed Tim to where he was. Tim gnawed on his lip a bit before answering,

"You already know where we went," he replied, Bruce sighed,

"Why did he go to Crowne Manor. He knows he's not allowed there until he's twenty-one," so Tim had been right,

"You put an additional tracker on him? Without him _knowing_ ," he hissed, "Do you seriously still not trust him?"

"I have additional trackers on everyone and they don't know about, including _you_. It's safer this way in case one of you is lost or taken by someone. I can find you more easily. Criminals know about the comm devices and about the distress beacon in our belts. An extra no one knows about saves lives,"

"Darren probably won't see it that way, and you didn't answer my question,"

"I do trust him, but he doesn't trust us. Not completely. This is for his safety. If he went off without the tracker on him and got caught by Talons, who knows where he'd be…and who knows where _you'd_ be if you'd been there when they caught up to him. This is for _everyone's_ safety,"

"I think you should change that 'us' to _'you'._ He doesn't trust _you,"_

"Do not change the subject, and you still haven't answered _my_ question. Why did he go to Crowne Manor?" Tim shrugged,

"He was nostalgic. It's the month his mother died, he wanted to feel close to her I guess. The mansion was when he lived a happier life…well mostly," Tim muttered, remembering Darren muttering how he never wanted to go back to the manor. It was unfair that the Court tainted the memory of his own home, nowhere probably seemed safe to Darren anymore and that was depressing, "Trust me, he won't go back there again…and I'm sure he'll come around to trusting you again, give him some time and next time he goes off script I'm sure he'll bring it up with you first," it felt like an empty promise, but Tim wanted out of this conversation,

"I hope he does. I didn't like stealing that trust in me from him, but it seemed like the best way to teach him change doesn't happen in a few weeks," Bruce let out a sigh before saying, "Go get some sleep Tim. And be sure to tell me where you're going if Darren does go off grid again. I was concerned for you two." With that dismissal Tim hurried upstairs.

* * *

Darren followed Jason through the busy bustling almost mid-December day in Gotham City. It was nice to be out and about after hiding away in Wayne Manor for so long, the only positive to having a court case pending that could either send him back to the Powers or let him live with Dick until he turns twenty-one. The waiting was killing him, they still had four to five months before the case is going to happen, and everyday it still felt farther and farther away even as the supposed date drew nearer. And even with the case in process and the whole entire process staying in the news, he was still at risk of getting swept up or killed by the Court when he was out of the Manor which is why Darren had to be with someone when he was in the city. It was frustrating, and he felt slightly smothered by the attention, he was used to people not caring what he did as long as he remained loyal to the Court. But now things were different and because things were different Darren wanted them to stay different. Not just because being free from the Court and being able to live his life the way he chose to was extremely important to him now, but because going back to the Court after running away and joining their sworn enemies would be hell. He shuddered to think of what they'd do to him…he worried about it often. He thought of all the horrible things William and the rest of the Court would do to him if the court case went wrong.

The first thing they'd do is have him kill all the Bats—or kill the Bats themselves and make him watch, Darren didn't know which was worse—then they'd put him on ice—after torturing him a bit for running away and refusing to obey them after they brought him back with Electrum—, leaving him frozen for as long as they wanted until Gotham forgot about him and the Powers would get his inheritance money, the grounds of Crowne Manor, and only then would they unfreeze him to be used as an assassin slave. A killer when they needed him to be, a torturer…a hunter of anyone who wrongs the Court in the Owls eyes. They _couldn't_ lose, Darren would rather die again than go back to them. He just got his taste of freedom, and while he wasn't completely relaxing and enjoying life it was better, so much better than the life he lived before. And better yet it was his life, not the life others had chosen for him,

"What's wrong?" Jason asked, "You've been mindlessly weaving through the crowd with an excessively worried expression on your face. What's bothering you?"

"It's nothing," Darren muttered, blinking and shaking himself from his thoughts,

"Liar," Jason replied, but didn't add anything on. That's what Darren usually liked about Jason. He didn't pry. Or try to make him feel better for thinking about horribly morbid thoughts,

"How far are we from this tattoo place you know of?" Darren asked,

"About half a block," was the answer. _Speaking of dying_ Darren thought morbidly as he grabbed Jason by the sleeve and tugged him into the nearest alleyway, "Hey! What the hell kid!" Jason demanded,

"Shush," Darren stated, "Relax,"

"Why?" Jason asked, "Are we being followed? Did you hear something?"

"No,"

"Then why—what is _that?"_ Darren had pulled out the vial of Serum that Malik had gotten for him,

"I need you to inject me with this,"

"What the fuck? _No,"_

"Please?"

"Want to hear it again in Spanish… _noh!"_

"Jason. This is the only way the tattoo won't heal over immediately after it gets applied. The Electrum and Mirakuru in my blood will just recognize that the _needle_ digging in and out of my body—creating the tattoo—as dangerous and injuring me. If I don't do this then the tattoo won't stay,"

"Are you serious!" Jason exclaimed, "I will not poison you just so you can get a tattoo, this is _insane,"_

"Fine then I'll do it myself. I didn't actually need your help I was just being considerate,"

"Really? Asking me to inject you with something that could kill you is being considerate?" Jason asked incredulously. His blue green eyes were narrowed angrily and Darren didn't understand why he was so upset about this. Instead of asking for a reason, Darren moved to plunge the syringe in his arm,

"Okay, no, just fuck no. You're not doing this, you'll kill yourself," Jason insisted, grabbing the syringe from Darren,

"Hey!"

"I'll do it. I don't trust you and your dyslexic brain," normally Darren would've punched someone for saying such a thing, but Jason seemed very worked up over this and to be honest, Darren wasn't sure he'd be able to do this effectively his hand was shaking too bad for it to be steady. Perhaps Jason was actually worried for him, or maybe he wanted to be blamed if the others found out about this or perhaps Jason agreed to do it for a completely different reason that Darren just couldn't see or understand. Jason carefully slid the needle into the crook of Darren's arm and pushed the plunger down slightly, not all the way…too much would actually kill him,

"You better hope that no paparazzi is here to witness this or your court case is going to take a nose dive," Jason muttered as he crushed the syringe under his foot, rendering it useless for any druggie who came by this alleyway searching for something to use. Darren didn't even want to think about what Serum did to normal people, "How do you feel?" he asked Darren, who was swaying slightly on his feet a slightly puzzled expression on his face,

"Weird," he replied, "I feel weak and fine at the same time…a little nauseous too,"

"That's not too bad, just don't pass out on me and this idea of yours better work. I won't ask you how you got that vial…but do not let that out of your sight. If it gets into the wrong hands someone could kill you,"

"I understand," Darren growled irritated, "now let's get this over with before I pass out or vomit,"

"Or both," Jason added helpfully as they started towards the tattoo shop again.

Once they entered the shop the one guy who was there for the shift took one look at Darren and Jason and just shook his head. The tattoo parlor was a dinky little shop in a pretty shitty part of Gotham to be honest. Pretty different from one of the wealthier districts they walked through only moments ago,

"S'up Morty, where's Rick?" Jason said, smirking like it was some kind of joke. Darren didn't understand it,

"Very funny asshole, " the guy said before looking over at Darren and glaring, "No way in hell. I don't care how tall you are, you are not eighteen. And I don't care who you are Reddie, the cops are on my case more now than they used to. Someone keeps snitching," the guy sneered,

"Don't be like that Morty," Jason drawled, "I know you do give kids tats if they want them, you sell drugs too but not to the kids— _right?"_ Jason growled, his expression turning menacing. Morty nodded rapidly clearly fearing for his life, "This is a special case. Trust me,"

"Most of those kids had money to pay me or some other means to pay the price," Morty replied with a snort,

"And this kid can pay you," Darren stated, pulling out his stacks of hundreds. Morty's eyes widened and a grin slithered onto his face,

"That'll be—," Morty started but Jason cut him off,

"I know your price when there's not permission from a guardian or parent…and you're lucky I let you live for scamming those kids for gang symbols to show loyalty that'll last forever and get them beat up in Juvie. You probably scam the druggies who buy from you too, so they'll be doing my dirty work for me once they find out," Jason shrugged with a light grin on his face, before continuing, "But you're not going to scam this kid or me for that matter. And I brought his guardian's signature," Jason slapped a piece of paper down on the table, with Dick's familiar scrawl on it. Technically Dick was not his guardian yet, but Morty didn't know that. Morty looked unimpressed but sighed,

"Fine, two-fifty per hour. What do you want kid?" Darren explained what he wanted,

"It'll make more sense when I show you," he replied, sitting on the seat in front of Morty and then pulling off his shirt with only minor difficulty due to the Serum in his system,

"Holy shit kid, what the hell happened to—,"

"—shut up Morty," both Jason and Darren growled at him. Morty shrugged, or Darren assumed he shrugged, before setting to work.

* * *

"It didn't hurt at all," Darren stated, "It felt like pin-pricks,"

"Says the guy who was raised by assassins," Jason replied as they hustled through the busy streets of Gotham. For a city that has tons of crime, it was really busy throughout the day. Everyone hurrying to and from place, to work, to meetings, to various activities that needed to be complete before the day was done and the criminals came out at night,

"I was full of poison,"

"A low concentration,"

"Oh so now you're okay with it," Darren said, rolling his eyes,

"Did I say that?" Jason growled, shoving Darren as they walked, "Don't ever pull that kind of shit again or I will tell Dick all about this,"

"You're just saying that," Darren stated, "Why do you let Morty tattoo those kids,"

"Because we made a deal, whenever he gives a kid a tat he tells me who they were. I find them and try to convince them to leave that life behind and do something better. Same with the drugs, I make sure anyone in my haunts who do sell drugs don't give it to the kids. Anyone who does anything differently answers to me and they usually don't stay alive,"

"Does that work? Talking to the kids I mean,"

"Some of the time, but I'm pretty sure I leave a pretty good impression to remind them about the conversation years later. Some people I save, some I don't. It's the effort that counts,"

"They still have the tattoo,"

"Perhaps for those who gave up the thug life use it as a reminder themselves, like you do. Or they remove it," Darren let out a grunt of agreement as he looked around at all the people walking around them. Everyone was so urgently trying to get to where they needed to go. They were unaware of what was right in front of them. Two trained assassins, a mob boss, maybe a few more guns for hire right there living their everyday life before their real livelihoods started,

"I don't see why you don't want Dick or Bruce to know," Jason stated after a moment or two of walking in silence,

"I have my reasons," he didn't want them to know because they'd try to talk him out of it, or miss the reason why he wanted to do this…why he felt he needed to do this. Dick was wonderful and Bruce was hard to understand or predict his moods but they were the kind of people who wouldn't see eye to eye with Darren on this,

"That doesn't seem really—," Jason continued on but Darren's attention drifted to something else, a person…a girl, in a dark green coat walking along the sidewalk, weaving through people holding a book in her hands. He didn't understand how she could just walk and read at the same time without bumping into someone, she couldn't be reading very thoroughly to be able to move through the crowd so well. He began to focus on what Jason was saying when the girl stepped into the street just as a crosswalk sign turned red and a Gotham bus screeched down the road towards her.

Darren was sprinting before he even realized he intended to save her. She was walking too slow, enthralled in whatever book she was reading and the bus driver was a _Gotham_ bus driver, he wouldn't stop. Darren had always been fast. Talons-to-be were trained to be fast because all other Talons were fast and they always fought like the trainees were Talons themselves. Despite the Serum in his system he reached her with record time to spare and tackled her back onto the sidewalk, disrupting the flow of the pedestrians. The bus blared its horn, briefly deafening Darren and causing his already throbbing head to ache more. Darren squeezed his eyes closed, shaking his head so he could hear the girl speak,

"—get off me now?" she was saying. Darren opened his eyes and saw yellow-green eyes stare back… _golden…golden-yellow green eyes_ stared back. Darren scrambled off the girl, nearly falling over himself,

"Talon!" he cried out loud, surprising even himself. Only a few walking by turned their heads towards him, but they continued on their way, ignoring the two of them. The girl stood up, shaking slushy snow off her coat, her yellow-green eyes staring piercingly at him,

 _"Excuse me?"_ she asked, "What the hell is a Talon?"

"I—I um…" Darren wasn't sure what to say,

"Is that some sort of slang? And do people here always tackle random girls in the middle of the street?" she continued. She was tall for her age, which seemed to be around Darren's own age…but looks can be deceiving. Her eyes still had this almost metallic yellow within them…usually a sign of a healing Talon…could Darren be wrong about what he assumed she was?

"It…there…the bus,"

"Yeah, I know. I heard it, I saw it. It would have stopped," she stated simply. Darren stared at her, she said it so sincerely like she actually thought that was true,

"This is _Gotham_ …buses don't stop for jaywalkers," the girl bit her lip, thinking apparently as she reached down and picked up her book. It was covered in slush and Darren felt a little bit bad but he didn't say anything,

"I…I suppose I should thank you," she stated, "I'm not from around here. Just moved here a few days ago," Darren was starting to think he had her pegged wrong…but those eyes. Those yellow-green eyes. They worried him because as long as he didn't know the truth…there was always the possibility he was right even if all evidence said he was wrong and he couldn't get the truth right now without tipping off the Court in the process, "So…thank you,"

"You're welcome," Darren replied, "Are you hurt?"

"No," she said, "All good," she smiled lightly at him. The girl was built willowy but also lithe, like a tiger, there was muscle there. Darren felt it through her coat when he tackled her. She had dark hair, so dark it almost appeared black, but Darren could see it was still brown—a very very dark brown—with a dark red streak on the right side. Darren opened his mouth to ask for her name,

"What the actual hell!" Jason yelled, suddenly standing next to him. It had started to snow again and Darren hadn't even noticed, "I swear to God I am this close to calling Alfred and having him drive your ass back home!" Darren grimaced in embarrassment as the girl, her eyes still a mysterious yellow-green, laughed lightly,

"I think that's my cue to go…uh, thanks again…I guess," she stated, crossing the street again this time safely, her book tucked under her arm instead of in front of her face. Jason was still yelling in his ear and Darren barely heard him as he turned to the nearest garbage can and vomited into it,

"We can't leave yet," Darren stated, after he stopped upchucking—Jason stopped yelling when he lurched for the trash bin—, "I still need a birthday present for Dick,"

"That's what online shopping is for," Jason growled, "We need to get you the Cure, and fast I don't want to see what else the Serum will do to you, and we need to get you inside. It's snowing and you'll get _cold_. C'mon." Darren felt too awful to argue. All the adrenaline from saving that girl was gone leaving the fatigue, weakness and nausea from before. He just followed Jason back to where he'd parked the car he borrowed from the Manor. Though he felt slightly delirious, his mind kept wandering back to those strange eyes…and he couldn't help but wonder if she was with the enemy, spying on him for the Court—keeping watch on their traitor just waiting for him to slip up. Because if she was, he _would_ kill her.

* * *

A/N: So...yeah. Take it from someone with experience, New York City buses...they don't stop unless they have to. Darren finally got his tattoo! Let me know what you thought of this chapter.

Also, I have some links to pictures for reference for the eye colors mentioned in the chapter if you want/need it. I have to separate the link a bit so it will actually stay in the document, but sometimes it doesn't work so I apologize if it doesn't. You'll need to type out the link instead of just copying and pasting it, I tested that out and it works that way for me.

The first is for a healing Talon, which is pretty much like the picture except more metallic looking and the second is for the mysterious girl's eyes which are what Darren is so suspicious about which are like the picture except they are a bit greener.

i^y^timg^com/vi/jY-QveiRX7A/hqdefault^jpg

pixabay^com/p-1161132/?no_redirect

(^ symbol = .)

Let me know if this works or not! [you must also include: h.t.t.p.s.:././ in front of link to see the photo-without the periods]

Sorry that I have to put it in this way, I just want it to actually work for you guys! And if it doesn't...I'm sorry, guess you'll just have to imagine it.

REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW and next chapter on Thursday!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I have to say I was initially disappointed by the lack of reviews but then I got one and omg it made my day and my heart melt and that's what I live for by writing. I love writing and I used to just do it for myself and I was always so self conscious about it and it took a shit ton of courage for me to post them online, and now I just have to say it has been the best decision I have ever made.

The only reason I was slightly upset about lack of reviews is because I know people are _reading_ the story, but I don't know if you are _liking_ it. It is not enough for people to just read it, I write for your entertainment so I need to know if you guys like it or not. It doesn't need to be long just something saying: oh I like this, or I hate this or I'm confused by this. I want to be able to learn from your opinions to better my writing, my story and my plot and I can only do that through reviews.

Enough of my rant, here's the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter: 4

Darren kicked the legs of the stool he was sitting on in the Cave. Today was lab day for school and he had to do it down in the Batcave. He figured it was safer than upstairs in his room and it actually made homeschooling easier since they had the Cave to do experiments in. He was only half paying attention to Tim though, who had volunteered as tribute to help him with the lab. It was for biology and while it was not Darren's worst subject, it was still difficult to decipher what he had to do and understand how when reading the instructions. Tim was home because it was a staff development day which meant the kids didn't have to go to school and the teachers did for meetings and stuff. The funny part, as Tim put it gleefully, was that since Tim was in high school and Damian was in the middle school—Gotham Academy went from elementary through to high school but had "separate" buildings for each of the schools—Damian still had to go to school that day. Darren didn't get why Tim was so evilly delighted by this but he didn't try and clarify. He'll leave Tim to his small victories.

Darren was still lost in thought. He couldn't get those yellow-green eyes out of his head. It was pushing his paranoia to the limit. Was she a Talon? Was she spying on him? Or was she just some random citizen with a unique eye color? What did this all mean…if _anything?_ His skin prickled uncomfortably and he suppressed a shudder, he felt like there were eyes watching him from everywhere. He needed to solve this mystery or it would drive him over the edge,

"Okay. So just cut the—Darren are you even listening?" Tim's voice interrupted Darren's racing thoughts,

"No," he stated bluntly. Tim let out a sigh but put the paper down,

"Okay. What's up?"

"Nothing," Darren muttered,

"You're a terrible liar for an assassin,"

"No I'm a great liar. I'm a ten-foot tall giraffe with butterfly wings,"

"Points for sarcasm," Tim snorted as he rolled his eyes, "Talk or I'll fail you,"

"You can't do that! Only Alfred can!"

"And if you can't write up this lab report because you didn't understand the lab experiment you will be failed by Alfred so I'd start talking," Darren let out a loud exasperated groan before glancing around the Cave, making sure no one was there before talking,

"Okay, it was after Jason and I went to get the tattoo,"

"How did that go by the way?"

"Great," Darren said, "I actually slept last night!"

"Aah…great?" Tim stated frowning,

"Forget I said that,"

"I won't, but continue,"

"Well, on the way back I saw this girl," Tim raised an eyebrow and grinned, "What?" Darren asked, interrupting himself,

"Nothing. Continue,"

"And she almost got hit by a bus, so I tackled her onto the sidewalk so she wouldn't…you know… _die,"_

"Okay, not going to lie, not how I thought this story would go,"

"How did you think it would go?"

"Nothing. Continue," Darren glared at him before doing just that,

"And she had these…yellow-green eyes and it just got me thinking…what if that whole thing was just a trick to see what I'll do? What if she's a Talon, spying on me for the Court and it was all just planted to see what would happen and how I would react? What if the plan was for her to play damsel in distress just to get my guard down so that I trust her. Then we'd just conveniently run into each other from time to time until the Court inevitably swoops in and kidnaps me again…or kills me. Whichever," Darren said, doing hand motions for the theoretical 'swooping' of the Court,

"Wait…you think she's a _spy?"_

"What else would she be? Those eyes…they had gold in them,"

"Like gold flecks? Or were they actually gold?" Tim asked,

"Flecks…I guess…I mean maybe a little more shiny than just flecks but it wasn't the complete eye,"

"Wow. You observed _such_ detail,"

"I was trained to be aware of my surroundings. All of my surroundings…buy they could be spying on me and I don't even know it. Am I losing my training or am I just being stupid?" Darren questioned seriously,

"Well for one, I don't think she's a spy. You said she'd just moved here a week ago—,"

"— a few days ago. It could be a _lie,"_

"It might," Tim agreed, "Or you're just being paranoid. I mean people have all sorts of details like gold flecks in their eyes naturally without Electrum or other things like color changing contacts. Also, your eyes turn _completely_ gold except for the pupil when you're healing. Not flecks, all gold…one shining color,"

"I don't care…I don't know for sure and I need to know!" Darren almost growled, "I can't get those eyes out of my head,"

"Are you sure it's because you're paranoid that she's a spy?" Tim asked, a grin on his face,

"What do you mean?" Darren asked raising an eyebrow,

"I mean, why did you really save her? You were a civilian, not Renegade at the time,"

"No one was really paying attention," Darren said defensively, "And why does it matter why I wanted to save her? I died, I know what dying is like she didn't deserve to die—well I thought she didn't until the possibility came up that she was a spy for the Court of Owls. Isn't saving someone's life something you want me to do?"

"Well…not at the cost of revealing your secret identity," Tim replied,

"For people who try to save every life they can you can be quite hypocritical,"

"That's besides the point," Tim growled, "Are you sure about her?"

"Yes I'm sure,"

"Was she pretty?" Tim asked,

"I…guess? I don't know. I wasn't paying attention,"

"But you were, I mean you had to be paying attention to be able to save her and you were said you were trained to be aware of your surroundings,"

"Well that doesn't mean I was thinking she was pretty…she was actually walking with a book in front of her face and I was thinking that wasn't a smart thing to do because you'll just bump into people and walk into the middle of streets and nearly get run over, which she did!"

"Okay. I'm gonna put this bluntly…were you _attracted_ to her?"

"Why would I be attracted to a spy? That's ridiculous and dangerous," Tim sighed and closed his eyes and shook his head briefly before opening them again,

"You know what, never mind. Clearly you have no idea what I'm talking about so I'm just going to say this. Let it go. She's not a spy, she's just an innocent civilian you saved from dying in a painful bus crash. Good Samaritan deed done for the day. Her eye color doesn't mean she's a spy,"

"But—,"

"No buts, don't let this consume you. Not everyone with somewhat golden eyes is a Talon. I know you're worried about the Court capturing you again but they can't do that, not right now. Besides, the gold color, that goes away quickly for a Talon anyway, it's a sign the Electrum is healing you…it doesn't make your eyes permanently golden yellow. So let this go, and let's finish this lab,"

"Okay," Darren sighed, taking the scalpel and moved to cut the tops of the strawberries off, but his thoughts again wandered to why Tim would think he even liked a complete stranger right off the bat and how being attracted to someone would mean he would save them. He would save anyone in immediate danger, it didn't mean he was attracted to them. Suddenly Tim was snatching the scalpel from him,

"Hey!"

"You almost cut your hand!" Tim snapped, "Blood…especially your blood…would ruin this experiment,"

"Or make it more interesting!" Darren stated, Tim let out a small laugh before sobering,

"You know what I've always wondered?" Tim started,

"What?"

"If you cut off a Talon's hand…would it grow back?" Darren thought for a moment, shuffling through his memories at the Court trying to remember if he'd ever seen that happen,

"You know…I don't actually know…I've never seen that," Darren and Tim looked at each other before looking at the scalpel,

"For science?" Tim asked,

"We're gonna need a bigger scalpel."

* * *

"Okay, wait…will this hurt?" Darren asked, as Tim raised the Batarang,

"You don't feel pain!"

"Yeah but that's like, cuts and knife wounds and poison and illness and literally everything but amputation…that I know of," Darren held his left hand out on the table. To be honest he was a bit nervous,

"Fair point but—,"

"—What the _hell_ are you two doing!" Dick's voice rang out from across the room. Darren and Tim stared as he marched over to them, he looked angry,

"Cutting my hand off," Darren stated simply,

"For science!" Tim added quickly,

"No! Are you serious! Just _no!"_ Dick snapped, yanking the batarang out from Tim's grasp, "Are you two that _idiotic_ to try something this _stupid?_ We don't know what will happen!"

"That's also a fair point," Tim muttered, "What were we thinking?"

"Yeah this is stupid…I'm a lefty, I _need_ this hand. Well I'm ambidextrous but still, two hands are better than one,"

"Yeah, we should do a pinky…or like the top joint of the pinky,"

"No! _No amputation!_ That is not allowed, new rule now! No amputation. I am revoking all batarang privileges until further notice and until it is clear you two are not being idiots," Dick yelled. Batarangs in hand he marched up the stairs to where the safe was while Tim and Darren cackled in their seats,

"I can't believe he actually thought we'd do that," Darren snickered,

"I mean we did consider it but we knew it would be a horrible plan," Tim agreed, laughing, "Pranking Dick was the best idea…we should probably tell him it was a joke though. He'll tell Bruce,"

"We'll save it for dinner. I mean I do wonder what would happen, but I'm not _that_ curious. And this is all thanks to me hearing him come down into the Cave."

"Credit given where it's earned," Tim agreed, finally calming his laughter, "Okay, let's seriously finish this lab. We need to get this done by dinner,"

"Fine," Darren grumbled, diligently chopping the green tops off of the strawberry for the DNA extraction lab.

* * *

A/N: Ahhh, I remember the DNA extraction lab, AP Bio...senior year(I could have taken it earlier but my school wouldn't let me because of stupid credits or something)...such fun.

Sorry the chapter was kinda short. The others will be longer I promise. I have a lot to get through in this story so the chapters will definitely be longer because of it. And perhaps this chapter ended a bit weird and goofy and out of character but I needed a way to end the chapter and I thought this was interesting and funny. Perhaps a bit OC-ish but still humorous? Anyway I hoped you liked it.

PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

And next chapter on Thursday!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: C'mon guys, you can do better with reviews. Are there no things you are dying to say or question or critique? I'd love to hear it all. The fate of this story is in your hands!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 5

Darren lurched awake, heart thudding as he shook himself out of the dream. He let out a sigh as he tried to let the panic that washed over him go. He'd dreamt that there were puppet strings attached to his hands where the pale scars from the daggers William had stabbed through them were, controlling his every movement. Darren sat up in his bed for a few moments, arms on his knees with his forehead resting against them. He took deep breaths, trying to shake away the panic he had felt as his arms and legs moved without his consent, his actions were not his own like the Court wanted it to be,

"I am not their puppet," he hissed into the silence of the darkened room, "They do not control me, they will never control me," he ran his hands across the now covered scars that extended down his triceps from his back. Darren could see the inked ends of the wings and the details of the feathers of his tattoo through the darkness and a smile found a way onto his face. He'd asked for a tattoo of the wings carved into his back, only more accurate and better detailed, so that even William wouldn't be able to 'marvel' at his 'artwork.' The whip marks were still very visible through the slightly shaded in detail of the feathers, but the outline of the wings were completely covered. He wanted to remember the wounds not as proof he had no will or choice of his own but as the day he chose his own future despite the consequences. He wanted to remember every time he unconsciously rubs at the scars or sees them in the mirror or has a nightmare, that he was living a life he chose and no matter how many people stood in the way of him doing that, he'd still always choose free will over anything else.

Darren's thoughts drifted back to his nightmare and the smile fell from his face. They weren't predictable now. They changed to various things, from when he was younger to his mother's death to his own death to William carving into his back to new dreams that he didn't quite know where they came from. His subconscious mind fed on hidden insecurities, fears and paranoia deep in the vault of his mind. It dredged up things even he hadn't considered or thought of before.

He hadn't seen who the 'puppeteer' was and while he shouldn't worry about who that was it still disturbed him. He didn't like not knowing things, especially when it involved him. On top of that he didn't know what was worse, having nightmares in general or not knowing what to expect at all when he closed his eyes. He used to know what would greet him when he did finally manage to fall asleep, but now he knew nothing and knowing nothing made him fear closing his eyes.

 _Fear._ Darren hated the word, the concept. But lately he's grown to accept it. He feared the Court, more so what the Court would do to all those who helped him if they lost the court case and got him back into their clutches. He feared William, the scars on his back will always haunt him even if they are covered and given a new meaning. The truth William wanted him to understand will always be there lurking in the darkness waiting to be whispered over and over again in his ear by phantom voices on his darkest days. He feared hurting those he cares about, nothing would change the fact that he was dangerous. He could lose control, he knew he could. It has happened. While he was learning how to fight non-lethally, he would always have killing to fall back on and that worried him less than he thought it would which made him fear the likelihood of him actually losing control. It was hard to see it as wrong when for so long it was encouraged. But he knew that it was, he knew it wasn't his job to decide who lived or who died…but at the same time some people just deserved it.

There was no fixing people who wanted to do bad. Who wanted to kill, maim, plunder and corrupt. They did what they did because they wanted to, or they didn't know the difference between right or wrong so why let them live to continue their reign of terror? Darren didn't know quite what the answer was, and he was scared to even ask anyone about it, so he kept those thoughts to himself. No one need know he still questioned what everyone else thought was so morally correct.

Darren let out another sigh, his thinking causing a pulse of anxiety loose. He knew he'd work himself up into a panic attack if he thought too much…at least that was what Dick warned him about. Thinking too much after a nightmare, specifically about the nightmare, can cause worrying and stress…or something. Darren didn't know but he didn't want that to happen. He hated the helplessness he felt during an episode like that. The worst part was it didn't seem to be going away, no matter what he did nothing would make that kind of anxiety go away. So Darren sat there in the dark until he didn't feel the suffocating feeling on his chest and his mind stopped reeling at the possibilities of what the nightmare was or meant. And he still sat there, contemplating going back to sleep. He didn't want to, he was wary of closing his eyes again…but he knew he had to. Bruce said if he didn't get enough sleep, he wouldn't go on patrol. He needed to be alert, and Darren understood that, he just hated the fact that it meant he had to actually try and sleep when it was nearly impossible for him to do so.

Darren lay in his bed as the hours ticked by. Trying deep breathing to tire himself out. Keeping himself still no matter how badly he wanted to fidget. He even tried counting sheep but he still did not feel tired. He didn't know what to make of it. Sleep took forever to come, it was an hour or two after patrol that he finally managed to fall asleep and depending on whether or not he had a nightmare that night he'd get about or less than six hours of sleep before the sun came up and peeked through the shades, waking him up. He'd then lie in bed hazily trying to go to sleep again before everyone else got up, but he'd only get another half-hour in before he couldn't stand lying in the bed anymore so he'd go downstairs for breakfast with Tim, Damian and Bruce—if he wasn't already at the office. He wondered if it was the training to stay up for days that made him like this. Sleep only came so easily at the Nest because they were training all day with minimal resting time and were exhausted from all the work.

A grimace graced his face at the thought of that training to remain awake. Hours and hours of trying to stay awake. Talons walking and keeping watch on the Talon trainees, waiting for someone to nod off before prodding them awake harshly. Or dumping ice water over the boy or girl's head, or blowing a whistle loudly and giving everyone a scare to keep them awake. Sometimes they would give you a small lash with a whip or a nick with a blade just to give you a little stint of pain too keep your adrenaline up and your eyes wide open.

Perhaps it was a little like torture, but it was necessary for training. Talons worked all hours, and often days at a time in order to collect necessary information, travel and kill their target. And the Owls wanted their jobs done as quickly as possible. If they eliminated a great need for sleep, the jobs got done at a much faster rate. Information in the hands of the Owls within hours of their request for it, a kill done as quickly as possible, a person abducted for the Owls almost at once. Timing was key and Talons benefited from doing things quickly.

Darren flinched in his bed—he had started to nod off a little as he thought of time at the Nest—the sound of a phantom whistle echoing in his ear threw him from near sleep. Darren shook his head, his heart racing again before jumping up from the bed making sure he landed silently before sneaking out of his room and down into the Cave. He wasn't going to get anymore sleep that night.

* * *

Dick opened the door to the Manor before Alfred could do it for him. Titus came running the moment he stepped foot into the entryway,

"Hey there doggo," Dick said playfully as he scratched the Great Dane right behind the ears the way he liked it,

"At least someone in this family still uses front doors like ordinary people," Alfred said wryly as he walked over the greet him, "You didn't ring the doorbell," he added accusingly,

"I'm a grown man, I can open doors myself," Dick replied lightly as Damian came into view of the hallway,

"What are you doing here? Don't you have school?" he asked the youngest of the Waynes,

"Tt, today's a staff development day. What are you doing here Grayson," the younger boy sniffed by way of greeting,

"I'm staying over for dinner tonight," Dick stated with a grin, "Where's Darren?" he then asked. He also needed to discuss with Bruce and Darren when would be the best time to have him come over to his penthouse and look at his room. The social services workers would be doing a walk-through of the space to deem if it was 'livable and safe.' It was a pointless task, Darren was fifteen not five but rules were rules and laws were laws. He briefly wondered if perhaps they should have tried to get Darren emancipated…but that would require Darren getting a job and that would put him in the public and around other people. Still a guy could dream of not dealing with social services—though to be honest they'd still be dealing with them no matter what. They were like unavoidable pits in a metaphorical cherry.

They needed to set the guest bedroom he had up to at least look like a teen was living there…or _going_ to live there. To be honest Dick was really dreading the trip to Ikea to find a desk and bookshelf for the room, as well as dreading putting it together if need be. He truly wished Darren could just live with him, but it would be safer for everyone if he stayed at the Manor, away from others who the Court could use against him.

Dick didn't even want to think about after the court case when either Darren would be living with them still while trying to prevent the Court from killing him or capturing without the protection having a pending legal court case had or he'd be back in the Court's clutches and the rest of them would be fighting to get him back. It pained Dick to even consider that happening, and he had to wonder what they would do once they got him away from the Court of Owls again…they legally couldn't keep him from the Powers in that scenario,

"He's in the living room doing schoolwork," Damian monotoned, pulling Dick from his thoughts. Damian was clearly upset that Dick came all the way to see Darren and not him,

"Dami, I'm still staying for dinner and we have plenty of time before then to hang out. No need to be jealous," Damian glared at him,

"I'm _not_ jealous. Why would I be jealous of that narcoleptic moose?" Dick stared at Damian before blinking and saying,

"What?… _narcoleptic moose?"_ Damian rolled his eyes and stomped over to the living room, with a shrug at Alfred and Titus, he followed his younger brother.

In the living room they found Darren asleep, his notebook on his chest and laptop on his legs a pillow beneath it so his legs won't get hot from the computer's fan. He had to be pretty tired to actually sleep during the day with so many people around,

"I see the narcoleptic aspect…but moose? Really?" Dick said. Damian shot daggers at him mentally before saying,

"He's tall," Dick nodded in agreement. Darren was growing fast, he'd shot up four inches since the last time they measured him putting him only an inch shorter than he was…which was disconcerting but not that impressive since Dick was only five foot ten. Darren would surpass him by a lot soon enough,

"Think he'll be taller than Jason?"

"No," Damian said, "want to bet on it?"

"No," Dick stated, he'd probably lose. Jason was six foot two…maybe a little bit more than that but in essence he was _tall_ ,

"Definitely taller than Drake though,"

"Taller than you?" Dick dared ask,

"Never,"

" _That_ I'd bet on," Dick said with a grin, "But we should wake him up. He needs to finish school or Bruce will be on his case and that is not what either of them need. He'll also be too wired up to sleep properly tonight," he moved over to behind Darren on the couch and shook him gently on the shoulder,

"Darren, you need to wake up and finish your work," he said. When his cousin didn't stir he shook a little harder,

"Tt. Move. I'll wake him up," Damian growled. Dick turned to see him brandishing a whistle, and while it was a normal whistle not a dog whistle like the one Bruce used on him a bit ago Dick still tried to step in to warn Damian not to use it,

"Dami, I don't think—," but whatever he said was cut off as Damian blew the damn thing as hard as he could right by Darren's head. Darren shot upright with a cry of shock and before he even had his eyes open punched out to his right hitting Damian square in the nose,

"Gah!" Damian cried, stumbling backwards into Dick who instinctively caught him by the shoulders. The look on Darren's face was surprise and shock at a rude awakening but also something of…fear? Before Dick could question if he was okay, Damian launched out of his grip and tackled Darren right over the side of the couch. A very loud crack was heard as something hit the new wooden coffee table they'd gotten. Dick scrambled to the other side worried as he didn't know which of the two boys had struck the coffee table.

Damian stood in between the couch and coffee table as Darren scrambled to his feet as well, he had clearly been the one who hit the table, which Dick was thankful for only because he knew Darren couldn't feel pain and would heal much more quickly than Damian would from a blow like that. There was blood streaming down the side of his head—head wounds bled a lot, it was probably much less serious than it looked—and his eyes were a stunning celestial gold as he then tackled Damian with an angry growl, both of them landing near Dick's feet,

"Hey! Knock it off you two! He didn't mean to—Darren stop it! Stop pulling his hair Damian, he can't feel it! Darren don't try and….BRUCE!" Dick finally called trying to grab at least one of them to pull off the other as they flailed around on the carpet. This wasn't a fight like the sparring they usually had down in the cave. This was an all out brawl. A wrestling match of pure anger and aggression, "No biting! Stop this! You're both being ridiculous!" he yelled as Bruce finally made it to the room to see chaos erupting around him. With a slightly thunderous expression he reached into the violent brawl and grabbed Damian, pulling him off of Darren and holding him back as Dick reached down and helped Darren to his feet. He held firmly onto his cousin's shoulder knowing fully well that he couldn't hold him back even if he tried, but Darren didn't seem to want to fight anymore. The blood had dried on the side of his face, though a lot of it had gotten on the carpet some of it had to have been Damian's because his nose was clearly broken and bleeding…at least it wasn't a white carpet.

Darren's eyes were still yellow, which made sense, he'd hit the table hard. In his hand he held the whistle Damian had used, both of them were still, they weren't trying to get at each others throats and they stood silently glaring at each other. Darren held up the whistle and crumpled it in his hand,

"Don't. _Ever_. Use this on me again. Ever," he growled, chucking it at Damian's feet,

"Noted," Damian muttered sullenly. Darren took a deep breath, then another before shrugging Dick's hand off his shoulder and striding past a stoic Bruce and a shocked Alfred and hurrying upstairs—Dick assumed he went to his room,

"What the hell happened?" Bruce asked,

"Well—,"

"—Tt, how the hell was I supposed to know he was afraid of whistles?" Damian snapped. Dick frowned at that. Startled by the noise probably, he had enhanced hearing and loud sudden noises can't be that endearing and were most likely painful…but _afraid_. That was a little much. Though the look in Darren's eye when he was woken up by the whistle seemed to support that thought,

"Let's just not push it," Dick said, "Just no more whistles. That goes for everybody," he stared pointedly a Bruce who just glared back, "I'll see if I can talk him into coming down for dinner," Dick stated before hurrying up to his cousin's room,

"I'm sorry," Darren said the moment he opened the door, "I didn't mean to punch him,"

"I know. You were startled, he shouldn't have done that," Dick said, "he shouldn't have attacked you either, he would have reacted the same if you had done it to him. Though you wouldn't have felt it," Darren grimaced slightly. His eyes were back to normal, but the blood was still dried on the side of his face and some had dripped onto his green long-sleeved shirt,

"True," he muttered, "It probably hurt,"

"He'll get over it," Dick stated, "Just cool down, clean off your face—I don't know if you realized but you have blood all over your left side of your head—get some more work done and come down to dinner. There's no need for conflict, it was just an ill mannered and kind of cruel, er, _prank_ on you,"

"It wasn't a prank," Darren muttered,

"I know, but we did try to wake you…did you not sleep well again?" Darren made another face and shifted form foot to foot and rubbed the tops of his arms, clearly not wanting to talk about it, "Never mind," he stated, he didn't want to pry and he didn't need to. Darren would talk if he wanted to and he didn't want to push him,

"I'm not afraid of whistles," Darren said suddenly. Dick blinked,

"Oh, uh…I didn't think you were,"

"I heard him say it, and I'm not afraid…it's well…it's just—," he paused again and Darren's expression darkened. It was a look Dick recognized as Darren thinking or talking about the Court of Owls and Dick was about to say he didn't have to talk about it but Darren beat him to it, "It's just well, it was used for training,"

"What was?"

"The whistle…to keep us awake,"

"Awake? What do you mean?" Dick was starting to feel concerned,

"It was to train us to stay awake for…a few days,"

"A few? How much is a few?" Dick asked, trying to keep his voice down so Darren wouldn't think he was yelling at him,

"Five,"

"They trained you to be kept awake for five days straight by using a whistle?" Dick asked incredulously. Anger following right after, that was along the lines of torture, not letting them sleep and keeping them afraid to go to sleep because the whistle would be blown right in their ear every time. Dick didn't even know how long they had to train in this…no wonder he never got enough sleep, it had been drilled into him to not _need_ to sleep,

"Among other things," Darren said as if it were normal. Though it was normal for him and that was the worst part, "that's why I reacted the way I did…it was, uh, reflex and I...I thought I was back there at the Nest when I was woken up by the whistle. That's all,"

"I understand and I'm sure Damian understands. It won't happen again. I'll make sure of it," Dick stated, "Now get cleaned up and calm down—,"

"—I am calm,"

"—perhaps you should stay in tonight. Take the night off from patrol," Dick continued, purposely ignoring him. Darren glared and was silent for a moment,

"Maybe," was all he said. Dick suppressed a sigh, it was something,

"Okay, see you at dinner," Dick said before leaving back the way he came. Perhaps he shouldn't tell Bruce what he learned, but he felt that it was also important. What Darren doesn't know wouldn't hurt him.

* * *

A/N: I had terrible nightmares when I was little and I would get so worked up about them I'd work myself into having a panic attack and then getting physically sick from it all. I eventually realized that my parents _worked_ and needed to _sleep_ so I stopped running into their room every night and learned to deal with it on my own. I still get the panic attacks but not a lot anymore, very rarely actually and I don't get sick anymore because of it. Enough of my drama, I just wanted to mention that because I totally understand how just thinking and thinking can work someone up especially if it's about something worrying.

Hope you liked this chapter. As always I would love to hear your questions, comments or concerns as I mentioned above, so PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

I also have a picture from the internet that shows how I imagine Darren's tattoo to look like:

If you type in the search bar anatomically correct wing tattoo and go to images it should be the first picture at the top of the page in the left corner. But if you want to see exactly what I picked out to try and describe I have the link down here as well. Just remember what I put in the earlier chapter for retyping the url. For the image the wings go down to his lower back, I'm just including this because I can't tell if the wings are short or long on this person's back in the photo and wanted to make that clear.

Here is the photo: s-media-cache-ak0^pinimg^com/736x/71/7a/af/717aafc2b25be4de8b78e5af7753dae3^jpg

(^ = . )

you must also include: h.t.t.p.s.:././ in front of link to see the photo - without including the periods of course :)

Hope it works and hope you like it.

Next chapter on THURSDAY!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Guys, I know I am being pushy about comments but it's only because I want this story to be the best it can be, and the only way for that to happen is if I get your inputs, thoughts, questions, criticisms and opinions. So PLEASE try and REVIEW!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 6

"Young Sir, it is time to wake up and start the day!" Alfred said rather loudly as he jerked open the heavy curtains covering the windows of the bedroom. Darren cried out as sunlight pierced through his eyelids. He rubbed at them and blinked at the older man, trying not to glare too darkly or angrily. His stronger eyes were still very sensitive to sudden changes in light, they couldn't adjust fast enough. It was a disadvantage in a fight, but one not many people knew about,

"Don't give me that look Master Darren. You still have school to get through today and you've slept late enough," Darren groaned and rolled over. He'd decided to go out on patrol afterall, though he'd been overly exhausted upon returning afterwards. Darren slept like the dead last night and it was great, only he was so tired he slept past his alarm. Alfred had been kind and let him sleep in a bit, but apparently decided his education was more important than being completely well rested, "Come on up. Up on your feet. I'll have lunch ready for you and you can eat in the living room while working on that lab report," Darren groaned again and rolled onto his back, blinking up at the ceiling,

"Five more minutes," he said, doing a full body stretch while still tangled in the sheets,

"I'll give you five minutes to get ready or I feed your lunch to the dog," Alfred stated as he started to leave the room. _That_ got Darren moving, he loved food and as much as he liked Titus the dog, he would not let him eat his lunch. Darren scrambled to free himself from the sheets and find something to wear for the day.

The house was quiet. So quiet and Darren was so so so bored. It wasn't the work itself that was boring it was just sitting in one spot, trapped by his computer on his legs and books and notebooks on his lap that irked him. Of course he could move around if he wanted to but that usually resulted in him getting distracted by something, someone, or completely quitting on school and meandering down to the Batcave. Darren leaned back on the couch, his finished plate on the coffee table—scrubbed clean of his blood from last night—, and rubbed at his eyes letting out a yawn. He'd gotten through most of the day for school and he finished this week and half of next week for science already which was great, it was one thing he was ahead in. History involved a lot of writing, but he wasn't as behind in it as the other subjects. English he was lagging behind more than history but not as much as he was in math. Darren wrinkled his nose at the thought of equations and factoring and calculus and trigonometry. Math was the worst, everything just got jumbled in his head no matter how hard he tried to understand it. With a sigh he glanced out the window, welcoming a distraction and noticed Dick's motorcycle in the driveway. He leapt up and ran over to where Alfred was dusting one of the shelves in the pool table and game room,

"Alfred, is Dick still here? I saw his bike in the driveway,"

"I believe he and Miss Barbara came by during their breaks to take inventory of supplies in the Batcave, and to make more flash bangs and smoke bombs since Bruce is stuck at the office and the other boys at school,"

"I'm taking a break. Bye!" Darren said, running off before the butler could say otherwise.

* * *

"Are you sure you counted right?" Dick asked Barbara. She stopped tinkering with a flash bang device to glare at him,

"Do you realize who you're questioning?" she asked,

"Right," Dick said sheepishly, "Of course you counted right. Hard to believe we're so low on batarangs. We'll have to make more once we put these crates in storage,"

"I think we have Damian and Darren to thank for the shortage of batarangs," Barbara stated, nodding over to the back of the Cave where dummies had dozens of them embedded into various location on their "body". Some in very lethal spots, telltale Darren throws, while others had somewhat less damaging wounds from the batarangs. Marginally improved throws. Still a lot of damage done by them, but it was a step in the right direction,

"Are they dulled?"

"I don't know. We'll have to check," Barbara said with a sigh, "His strength might dull them more quickly than we would. But it's good that he's learning not to throw to kill,"

"I'm very impressed Damian is teaching him so well,"

"Yeah. Kindred spirits aren't they?"

"I guess. Though Darren still has a ways to go before getting on Bruce's good side,"

"I think he's doing fine and is happy where he is despite being babysat by everyone. I think he even likes being taken care of," Barbara stated with a grin, setting down the last of the flash bangs as Dick tallied them off one by one on the spreadsheet he had pulled up on the bat computer,

 _"Darren, like_ being taken care of? What Darren do _you_ know?" He asked, spinning the chair around to face his girlfriend,

"Okay. Maybe _like_ is a strong word…but he doesn't mind it as much as he used to,"

"No way. He probably feels smothered by the attention,"

"That's what he does feel, but again, he doesn't mind it,"

"I think you're way off,"

"Wanna bet?"

"I'd win,"

"Believe what you like," Barbara stated, "But he's getting used to not taking care of his problems on his own,"

"He still doesn't like it, and he still doesn't tell me things. You know he only just told me he hates whistles _not_ just because they hurt his ears but because the Talons used them on the trainees when conditioning them to stay up for five days straight _last_ night? And he even said _'among other things'_ like what else would they have used? And he sounded completely _okay_ with it!"

"It's the environment he was raised in," Barbara said as she stacked the last crate, though she was frowning at the new piece of information, "You know he won't react to things the way we do,"

"I know. But sometimes I just wished he understood how abused he was..is…was…whichever it is," Dick muttered, "I want him to be upset that was how he was raised so he would open up to being a normal fifteen year old,"

"Being normal is overrated," she replied, "But he doesn't see how he was raised as abuse. And that's the problem. It's why he hates and likes us sort of babysitting him, he just doesn't know what to make of it or how to react to positive attention,"

"It's awful,"

"It's terrible," Barbara agreed, "But it's something we need to understand and work with. He is happy here, but there's still the constant threat of the Court so he'll be on constant guard even around us. Even if we are protecting him," Dick let out a huff of a breath but nodded in agreement. He hated that his cousin lived through such things, that it was his life and he would always behave as if it were normal as well as how he never trusted easily even now, but there wasn't much else he can do other than be there for him whenever he can,

"It's a good thing he told you that bit of information, it means he's learning to open up,"

"I know that's the good part of it, but what he _does_ tell me is _terrible_. And I don't know if he's telling me out of necessity or because he wants to or because he wants comfort…or all three so I don't know exactly what to do," Dick muttered. Barbara sighed but let the matter drop,

"Okay. Are you going to help me test these things? We need to make sure we did this correctly or we'll be very embarrassed during patrol,"

"Right. Protective goggles?" he said handing her a pair,

"Yup. Bet I can hit the giant penny," she said, cranking back her arm,

"You're on," Dick said, grabbing a flash bang of his own. Just as they threw the flash bangs they heard footsteps on the stairs and Darren saying,

"Dick! I didn't know you were here, what—," he was cut off by Dick calling out to him,

"—Darren wait close your—!" he didn't get a chance to finish as the flash bangs hit their mark. Through the blinding white light they heard a screech of pain and surprise before the sound of someone tumbling down the last few steps into the cave reached their ears,

"Oh no!" Barbara cried, pulling off her protective-ware and running after Dick to where Darren lay in a heap on the floor. They both knew he was okay, but they instinctively ran over to him like they would with anyone else,

"Are you okay?" Dick asked, grabbing Darren gently by the shoulders and lifting him up. Darren blinked, once, twice then a few times. He looked around and rubbed at his eyes,

"Yeah…I'm fine…but—," it was then that Dick realized Darren's eyes were a brilliant gold color. Indicating he was healing from something,

"But what?" Dick asked warily, patting him down and trying to find if anything was in need of setting or if he was bleeding from anywhere and that was causing the change in eye color,

"I can't see," Dick froze in his pat down before jerking Darren's chin up so he can see his eyes and moving a finger in front of his eyes trying to get them to follow it. They didn't move to follow his finger. Darren tried to pull his chin out of his grip, but Dick didn't let him slip out just yet. He took out a little flashlight and moved it back and forth in front of Darren's eyes again. No reaction,

"Babs, get Alfred," Dick said letting his chin go and helping Darren stand fully. He didn't seem to be panicking. Maybe the shock hasn't hit him yet, or perhaps he knows this type of damage would eventually heal…possibly, they don't actually know what they're dealing with here that's where Alfred came in.

He and Bruce had raided the library in the headquarters of the Court when they went to take the chest back. Both Alfred and Dr. Thompkins were studying up on everything there was to know about Talons and were the go to people for information on them. Darren's eyes were very sensitive to light and two flash bangs at once could be very severely damaging for all they knew. Barbara had run upstairs while Dick brought Darren to the med bay,

"I'm so sorry this happened. We didn't mean—Darren why are you smiling?"

"This gets me out of doing school, _yes!"_ he exclaimed happily. Dick suppressed a groan and just sat down next to Darren in wait on Alfred the medical expert. Not a minute after Alfred got there did Dick's phone ring, it was Bruce. _Great,_ Dick thought to himself as he answered the call, _now what could be wrong?_

* * *

Technically Tim could have taken the intro to business class with most others in his grade, but he tested out of it and didn't need the requirement. Which meant he had a free period. One of the glorious things about high school. Blocks of free time throughout the day. It was great and to be honest, no matter how good he was at all things business, he really hated dealing with it. Helping Bruce out with it was painful enough. At least he won't have to deal with it ever again…hopefully. Who knew what would happen when he went to college. With a sigh Tim turned down another hall and moved to walk by an adjacent hallway to the cafeteria when he saw something that made him stop. It was a girl. Standing in the middle of the hallway looking around. She had her back to him but he could tell that if a faculty member happened by she would definitely get dress coded. She wore combat boots with her uniform, with dark hair falling halfway down her back, a dyed piece of red pinned back in her hair. Dyed hair and shoes that were not permitted, both detailed in the student handbook. The girl was obviously new, or she would know how seriously Gotham Academy actually took the dress code as stupid as it was. Tim paused. He could continue on his way and let whatever happens happen…but she also appeared to be lost and new and she didn't deserve being sent to the office because she didn't read the student handbook carefully— _no one_ reads the student handbook anyway. His mind made up he stepped into the hallway and started towards her,

"Um…excuse me?" Tim asked, the girl turned and Tim stopped in his approach. Yellow-green eyes blinked back at him… _yellow-green eyes_. Eyes that Darren had been so suspicious about. Tim stopped in his approach and considered the girl warily. He didn't know why he did in such a fashion but Darren had been adamantly concerned and convinced that she was a Talon spying on them for the Court. And while that may not be true, her turning up here was almost too perfect. He regarded her silently. Her eyes were slightly luminous, the yellow catching the light from the nearby windows. But they weren't talon-like…they were cat-eyes, as some some would say, and they were quite pretty to be honest not that he'd say that out loud,

"Ah, hi," She said sheepishly a small smile on her face. She seemed much more friendly than any Talon Tim's ever met, "I'm a bit lost…as you can probably tell. I'm new,"

"…nice to meet you," Tim said after a beat of silence. He shouldn't just assume she was a Talon. There was no reason or evidence to believe Darren's claim. He was acting on paranoia…well placed paranoia but paranoia all the same, "Tim Drake,"

"I'm—," she was cut off by another voice calling from behind Tim,

"Hey asshole!" Tim let out a sigh as he was grabbed by his collar and slammed into the nearby lockers by Derek Powers. The older boy had been giving Tim a hard time since the custody court date had been set. He couldn't exactly blame him. It must be hard dealing with your family losing the faith of the most feared, unknown and deadliest secret organization other than the League of Assassins. And the Powers were of course dealing with a ton of shit back home, what else was there to do other than take it out on the family that's taking away the one assurance that kept their place with the Owls, "Thought you could avoid me forever?"

"No. Just didn't think you'd be dumb enough to try anything," Tim growled,

"Thanks to you and your family _my_ family is about to lose everything we've ever worked for!"

"That's kind of your own fault," Tim deadpanned,

"You, _you_ little _shit_ , are going to wish you'd never been born," Derek spat,

"Seriously get a better insult," Derek growled in anger and pulled back his arm, his fingers curled into a fist,

"Hey! Leave him _alone!"_ the girl cried, stepping right next to Derek and grabbing the arm pinning Tim to the lockers, "I have no idea what this is about but it's ridiculous and totally cliché. Get _over_ yourself,"

"Stay out of this! Let go! If you knew what monster he lived with you'd _thank_ me!" Derek growled, trying to shrug her off, she stumbled back a step but held firm and she looked very angry. The girl grabbed on with her other hand,

"I won't be a bystander to a bully picking on someone," she declared. Tim blinked at the scene before him. Derek looked ready to maim someone, maybe he should step in,

"Ow, ow, let go of me!" Derek suddenly cried, Tim glanced at her hands holding Derek's arm in surprise. _Was that smoke?_ Tim thought to himself as the hands holding him suddenly disappeared and he stumbled to the floor while the girl jerked her hands away, a confused expression on her face, "You…you… _burned_ me!" Derek yelled, rounding on the girl who backed up clearly not knowing what just happened. None of them did,

"An Indian burn maybe, but I didn't do it that hard. I just wanted you to let him go. You are acting _insane_ ," Tim had to have imagined the bit of smoke he saw. It was a trick of the light. Derek took a menacing step towards her and Tim had to intervene,

"Leave her out of this, she has nothing to do with this," Derek turned back to him,

"You're right twinkle toes, it's all about you and your stupid family ruining everything," he pushed Tim into the lockers and then landed a punch. Tim hissed in pain but remained standing, he let Derek get another punch in before checking him into the other wall of lockers. He didn't care what Bruce said about keeping his nighttime persona separate from his civilian life, he wasn't going to let the brat win this fight and brag about it do everyone. Perhaps it was petty, but Tim at the moment didn't really care. Derek scrambled back to this feet and Tim got about three good hooks in before Derek hit him in the gut with his knee. Though Tim hadn't thrown his punches full force. He didn't want to knock Derek out for real, hitting his head on this floor would cause problems,

"Stop it both of you! You'll get in trouble!" The girl was yelling at them, trying to get them to stop, she didn't seem to know how to break them up so she just stood there watching and shouting at them. They were now both trying to get a grip on the other for another hit, "Stop it! _Don't hit him!"_ the girl screamed, her yellow-green eyes fierce in the corner of Tim's vision. In an instant Derek tripped over nothing as he lunged forward and sailed into the lockers on the other side of the hallway, his right hand gripping an open locker to keep his balance,

"Seriously! Stop!" The girl growled to Darren as he regained his footing. The locker slammed closed. Tim winced as the girl gasped in shock at the pained scream Derek let out. He'd never had a door slam on his hand, but he's seen Dick get shot in the foot by Jason so he figured it was kind of like that level of pain,

"Looks like your baseball season's not gonna happen," Tim stated. Derek gave him a withering look of pure hate,

"You're all _dead_ …you know that? There's nothing you can do to save him from them and the rest of you are all in the crossfire," Tim's expression darkened at that threat,

"What in the world _happened_ here?" A teacher had finally come to investigate all the yelling and screaming. She came into the hallway and saw two bloodied boys, one with a hand trapped in a locker and a girl with a dress code violation. The girl hurried over to the teacher,

"This guy just attacked Tim," she said, pointing from Derek to Tim, "and he tried to defend himself that's all. And the locker…I…well, I have no idea what happened with the locker. It was open and then _bam_ , it slammed closed,"

"It's true," Tim said, though his voice sounded thick. He reached up and winced as he touched his nose—the probable cause for his distorted voice—which was bleeding. Derek's nose was bleeding too and he had a black eye. The locker suddenly screeched open—to everyone's surprise—and Derek pulled his wounded hand to his chest with a pained expression on his face before he glowered again,

"Well this chick burned me!" he growled hatefully,

"I gave you an Indian burn you wimp!" she shouted indignantly, "I did that so you'd let go of Tim who you attacked for literally no reason,"

"Then explain this!" Derek snapped, turning as much as he could without jerking his hand around to show his coat sleeve, which was singed and flaking off fabric,

"I didn't have a lighter on me. I swear, and I wouldn't do that even if I did," the girl stated. Tim thought she sounded genuine, and he didn't see anything in her hands when she grabbed onto Derek, but anything could have happened and he missed it because of the angle at which he was being held. The teacher clearly wasn't buying it,

"All three of you to the office. Now!" she declared,

"Yes Ma'am," Both Tim and Derek said stiffly,

"What why me?" The girl demanded, "I tried to stop this fight!"

"You've violated the dress code dear. We take that seriously here at Gotham Academy," the woman replied snidely, "Now. To. The. Office," The girl stared angrily at the woman before turning on her heel and started down the hallway,

"Uh…office is this way," Tim called to her. She turned around with an indignant huff and started walking with him to the office. The locker slammed shut suddenly again as they passed by it, "I was going to warn you about the dress code," Tim said ignoring the weird locker and trying to be nice, "I…uh…got a little distracted understandably," The girl let out a sigh,

"It's okay. Thanks for the thought I guess. This is just so ridiculous,"

"It's Gotham Academy," Tim said as if it were the answer…and it kind of was. When kids had the money to pay off pretty much anything that comes up against them, dress codes are the easiest way to lay down some authority in the school,

"He threatened you…you know that? I heard him _'You're all dead?'_ Why didn't you say anything. And what did he mean when he said you couldn't save him…who's _him?"_ the girl asked,

"No one," Tim nearly snapped, "It's none of your business," She was only curious, but it was too close to Darren and Tim hadn't decided for himself whether or not she was trustworthy enough to even mention his family or Darren. He wouldn't risk it, not just yet. The girl frowned though she didn't press for answers.

The rest of the walk to the office was in silence and just the two of them. Derek had gone off to the nurse for his hand. He knew he should start a conversation. Make her feel a bit more welcome than she probably did due to the fight…but he didn't. He just didn't know what to make of her. He was being silly, but something was off about her. And he didn't know her. One interaction with a family member was chance, but twice is a coincidence…and perhaps it meant something deeper. He didn't know what to think, so he stayed silent and so did the girl, who he never actually got a name from. Now though, as the principal loomed before them, Tim was just dreading the call to Bruce about this fight.

* * *

A/N: Hope you liked this chapter. Please I don't mean to sound whiny and desparate for reviews, I just really want to know what's on your mind as you read this story! Tell me your thoughts! Your deepest darkest inner most thoughts!

In other words: REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

PS - Omg, the amount of times I've gone to type Dick's or Darren's or Damian's name and wrote one of the others' name by mistake is too damn high. They're all D names! GAH!

Next chapter on Thursday BUT I might post an extra chapter earlier in the week if I get some good reviews so keep that in mind!

Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Guess who has Achilles Tendinitis and can't do any martial arts for a whole WEEK? Me! *Insert saddest emoji possible*

Sorry for complaining about my life(it could be a million thousand times worse)

Here's the latest chapter.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 7

Darren hoped it didn't show that his hands were shaking…that his heart raced in a near panic. Perhaps he'd been all smiles and cheekiness after he'd fallen down the stairs and opened his eyes to only see blackness, but internally…he was terrified. He couldn't see. A vital sense, something he relied on more than most. Talons could see far. They could see for miles and without that ability…what was there he can do? He hoped the damage wasn't too bad. He needed his sight to return. He needed to see again or he'd be in even more danger than he'd ever been in before,

"Are you alright Master Darren? You are unusually quiet," Alfred asked. His voice came from directly in front of him, but all he saw was unyielding blackness. Darren didn't know what he was doing, but it was probably something medical,

"I'm fine," he said, his voice sounded clipped. Everything sounded odd to him now. His body adjusting to the sudden loss of a sense. His ears were strengthening the scope of their hearing to compensate. He never knew that would happen as quickly as it did. Perhaps being a Talon sped the process along,

"Will they heal?" he asked after a few more moments of deafening silence,

"They appear to be doing so. But your retinas _are_ severely damaged. It could take a long time for them to heal,"

"How long?" Darren asked, trying to keep his voice neutral,

"End of the day? Mid-day tomorrow the latest. It is not predictable, but they _will_ heal," the older man said, placing a hand gently on his shoulder, "there is no need to worry,"

"I'm not worried,"

"As you say," Alfred stated, clearly not believing him much to Darren's chagrin. Footsteps sounded and Darren jerked to face whomever was approaching, even though he could not see them,

"That was Bruce," Dick said, he didn't sound happy about it,

"What's wrong?" Alfred asked,

"Tim got into a fight at school,"

"A fight? _Tim?"_ Alfred exclaimed, clearly surprised,

"Yeah. I said that too. Bruce wants me to head down there, he's stuck in a meeting and will have to come in a bit later. Can I borrow a car?"

"Of course,"

"Darren want to come?"

"Sure. Not much for me to do here," Darren muttered, he got up and started in the direction for what he assumed was the stairs, only to crash into a roller cart of some sort with various supplies on it. They crashed and clanged onto the ground as the whole thing toppled over,

"I gotcha," Dick said, gripping him by the shoulders and steering him in the right direction, "We'll get you some sunglasses to cover your eyes. Don't want people wondering why your eyes are suddenly gold," Darren just grunted his agreement. He hated this, he was now a liability…but his eyes _would_ heal. He knew they would…but _still_.

* * *

Darren knew three things once he and Dick stepped into the office. One, there were three different heartbeats in the room other than Tim and the Principal's. Two, Dick's intake of air meant he was shocked by who else was in the room, which meant that he knew the other people. And three, Dick also muttered,

"Of course," under his breath. The others in the room also let out huffs of air and a snort of disgust. Darren knew those sounds anywhere. The Powers. He felt only hatred and dread. He should _not_ have come, not at all,

"What is _he_ doing here?" a voice sneered. Derek by the sound of it,

"Perhaps you should take the vermin outside?" Shepard growled lowly,

"Shepard," Lydia chided gently, though if Darren could see he was sure she'd have a sly cold little smirk on her face. Tim, who was seated nearer to them let out a groan and slumped back deeper into his chair,

"What's with the sunglasses loser?" Derek jeered,

"It's to keep me from seeing your ugly mug," Darren quipped, it was a stupid insult but it still shut Derek up,

"I presume…that perhaps the… _issues_ between the two families are what caused the scuffle in the hallway—," the principal started,

 _"Scuffle?_ He _broke_ our son's hand!" Lydia hissed, "He slammed it in a locker!"

"You slammed his hand in a _locker?"_ Dick hissed at Tim,

"Nice!" Darren cheered quietly…though everyone heard him,

"Mr. Crowne, behave please," the Principal said,

"I had nothing to do with his hand breaking," Tim snapped, "That locker closed on its own!"

"With enough force to crush his bones?" the Principal pointed out fairly,

"The only thing I did was punch him a few times because he cornered me when I was helping a new student out," Tim growled. The door opened and Bruce stepped in,

"Sorry I was late—," he stopped himself, probably out of surprise at seeing the Powers probably,

"Thank you for stepping out of the office for this Mr. Wayne…as you can see, there's been a skirmish between Timothy and Derek Powers. I understand your families are involved with a legal dilemma…but violence because of this cannot be tolerated,"

"He had it coming," Derek growled,

"So did your hand. Your other one as well," Darren snapped, moving forward a step,

 _"Darren,"_ Dick hissed, grabbing onto his arm. Darren couldn't help it, just hearing their voices, knowing they were a few feet in front of him made his blood boil. Plus Derek attacked Tim because of him. He would not allow that to happen a second time and if breaking every bone in his body got that message through…so be it, "Calm down,"

"Perhaps Mr. Crowne should wait outside," the Principal stated, "This does not involve him and I'd rather sort through this quickly," Darren didn't move,

"Darren. Wait outside," Bruce said. He still didn't listen,

"Darren. _Please_. Go outside for now," Dick said. With a grunt, Darren complied, managing to open the door without looking like a fool and stepping out into the main office of the high school building encompassing the Principal's own office. If he recalled correctly there were chairs off to his right…though he didn't have a chance to count how many steps they were from the door. With a sigh he just walked diagonally until he bumped into a filing cabinet and then stepped to the left a few steps before turning to sit down,

"Hey! Watch it!" a voice called out, startling Darren. He stumbled forward before spinning around to face the person who yelled at him. Even though he couldn't see who it was. He figured it would be impolite to not look at them-or at least where he assumed their face was-especially since he'd been about to sit on them,

"Sorry…I didn't see you there," he stammered out. He hadn't realized there was anyone else out here. He thought that heartbeat belonged to someone outside the main office at a locker or something. He'd misjudged the distance,

"Obviously," the voice stated…they sounded familiar. Darren bit his lip and scuttled to his left again before sitting down, successfully in the seat next to the other person waiting outside the Principal's office. The voice was definitely female…and familiar. Darren didn't know why,

"I…well…I guess I should apologize," the girl said,

"It's really okay," Darren said, "I _was_ the one who nearly sat on you,"

"Well I snapped at you…and you did save my life a few days ago," Darren stiffened. The girl with the strange yellow-green eyes sat directly next to him. He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm…if only he could see…he would be able to see if she had any weapons concealed, anything at all,

"It's…really…it's fine," Darren stumbled over his words. They sat in silence for a moment or two after that, "Why are you here?" he asked. He needed information. Maybe she'd tell him something useful, something substantial that connects her to the Court in some way,

"I've been dress coded. Apparently combat boots and dyed hair are not allowed 'under any circumstance,' even if you are a new student,"

"That's ridiculous," Darren couldn't help but say,

"Tell me about it," the girl said in agreement, "Though…I may have also been accused of setting someones jacket on fire,"

"Whose?"

"The jerkface who started the fight they're discussing in the office," she said,

"Excellent," Darren again, couldn't help but say,

"I take it you don't like him?"

"I haven't met anyone who does,"

"He came out of nowhere and started yelling at Tim. Threatening him even," Darren glowered at that. No one threatened his friends and got away with it, "I hope he gets what he deserves. Tim was trying to help me," Darren frowned at that too. Why would Tim help her after all Darren had told him about his suspicions. Silence fell over them again,

"What's your name?" she asked. Darren felt tongue-tied. Was this her trying to confirm whether he was the Darren Crowne she was meant to keep an eye on. The Court would be stupid not to use a Talon Darren's never met to spy on him. And he's never laid eyes on her until he saved her life from that bus a few days ago. He didn't want to answer, but something in him just couldn't be that impolite to her,

"Darren," he said, "Darren Crowne,"

"Do you go to school here?" she asked,

"No. I'm home-schooled,"

"Oh really? May I ask why?" _because it's safer than having me around anyone else in public while there's an evil assassin organization after my ass_ Darren growled in his head,

"It's better for me right now…I'm going through some… _family_ issues," he didn't elaborate and she didn't pry. He appreciated that, "What's your name," he finally asked,

"Livia Baudelaire," Darren's never heard of that name before. He waited in silence. Hoping the arguing in the room before them would hurry up. Livia let out a huff of air, as if exasperated,

"You're the only person I've ever met who hasn't asked me if my name was from those book characters," she seemed happily surprised by it, she shifted in her chair to face him it sounded like,

"What book characters?"

"Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire? _A Series of Unfortunate Events?"_

"Never heard of it," he deadpanned. She let out a squeak of a gasp,

"Oh my God. You've never read them? They're great. There's a lot of books in the series and they're short…I mean not super short, but they're…they're just very good," Darren found that people often got excited when talking about things they loved, for Livia it was clearly books,

"And then they'd ask 'did your family die in a horrible fire too?'" Livia let out a huff, "No, they did not. I live with my dad thank you very much. He's a doctor at the hospital here. It's why we moved," they sat in silence once again. Though Darren noted she did not mention her mother,

"Sorry for going on a rant there," she added a few moments later, "It just annoys me so much. You don't joke about someone's parents dying. People can be so horrible,"

"They definitely can," Darren agreed,

"Well not everyone. But still, if murder were legal…I know who'd be on my hit list," she muttered and Darren choked out a laugh. He never expected someone…anyone to say something like that. Perhaps she even meant it too and Darren didn't know what to feel if she did mean it. Mostly because he didn't know if it was meant for _him_ ,

"He shows emotion. I've cracked the ice," she said, probably grinning. Darren couldn't help but grin before remembering those yellow-green eyes and the danger they may pose and he sobered again,

"I've been meaning to ask," Livia began a few moments later, "What is a Talon?" a shiver ran down his back, he didn't think she would remember him yelling that at her before. He didn't answer. He didn't know what to say. He swallowed, considering answering. Many people in Gotham knew Talons existed, as they were exposed to them during the Court's attack on Gotham: the Night of Owls, but their knowledge was very limited on who Talons are and what Talons were. So Darren stayed silent, "I'll find out," she said eventually, "You don't have to tell me, but I will find out. It seems important if they scare you,"

"They _don't_ scare me," Darren snapped, despite himself, "If anything they should fear _me!"_ silence and Darren huffed out a growl at himself. He shouldn't have said that but she had misinterpreted his outburst a while back and while he does fear the Court…he would always have the courage to fight against them and resist them…at least he hoped. He hadn't faced them since the Bats got him out and away from Harbor House. He didn't want Livia to think he was frightened of Talons…of what she possibly was. It would give her and the Court an upper hand and power over him,

"Darren?" Tim apparently had been let out of the office finally and Darren hadn't even heard the door open, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Darren monotoned, "Can we leave?"

"Yeah. Bruce is finishing up in there and we have a suspended Tim to take home," Dick stated,

"I'm sorry you got in trouble," Livia said to Tim,

"I'm sorry I got you in trouble too. You shouldn't have gotten caught up in all this,"

"Whatever. I think I did the right thing,"

"Aw. Did Darren make a friend out here?" Dick asked, he could almost hear the smile in his voice and Darren clenched his teeth in annoyance,

"No," he deadpanned and started walking to the door, or where he assumed it was,

"What's with the sunglasses indoors?" Livia asked, her voice not revealing any reaction to what he'd just said,

"He just got his eyes diluted at the eye doctors," Dick said, thinking quickly as he ushered Darren out into the hallway,

"And you're a liar," Livia called to him, making Darren stop and look back over his shoulder at her, despite him not being able to see anything, "people don't just save someone for nothing, just like Gotham buses don't stop for jaywalkers. They do it because they see something in the other person," Darren ignored her and started walking with Dick again. Livia may think what she liked, but what Darren saw in her was not what she thought he did.

* * *

A/N: Hope you liked that chapter! It's not as long as the earlier chapters but just as enjoyable to read I hope. There are a bunch of nice long chapters ahead so look forward to that!

Just a quick thing about the name Livia Baudelaire:

I named her Livia not for _Livia Drusilla_ , the wife of the Roman Emperor Augustus but really rather because her name means _'life'_ which is ironic for a Talon themed story where their lives center around death and they are literally _undead assassins_. I thought it fit. The last name Baudelaire is NOT from the book series but rather for Charles Baudelaire a French poet who also produced notable work as an essayist, art critic, and pioneering translator. So Livia's family is some percentage French for any of you who are interested(that will come up later on in this story[I keep wanting to type book instead of story, lol]) I don't know if there are any living descendants of the guy, but I found it so cool his last name was Baudelaire and he was a translator for Edgar Allen Poe one of my favorite old timey authors...so yeah.

Please REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW I really want to hear your thoughts on what you've just discovered about Livia and what you think about it and about her.

If I get a nice amount of reviews I WILL post an extra chapter early on in the week since I am _soooo_ far ahead in this story. I'm on chapter twenty-one and I am not even half-way through with what I have planned.

GAH I am SOOO excited and I hope you guys are too!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Okay guys, someone messaged me this amazing PM, I also got a few reviews which just made my day so I'm posting an extra chapter because of it, also because I just feel like it XD

Hope you like this chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 8

"C'mon Darren. Saturday morning training," Tim's tired voice called from the hallway. Darren grunted and rolled over on his side, away from the door. He'd managed to get a decent amount of sleep in after Friday night patrol. Weekday patrols were shorter for the younger kids who had school in the morning. Fridays and the weekends ran later because it was the weekend…but Saturdays were early morning training sessions which were a pain. Alfred got to sleep in while everyone else went to the Cave,

"Darren, you need to get up. Bruce will literally dump ice cold water on you if you don't get up. He's done it before, I can testify to that,"

"I'm blind," Darren growled, hugging his pillow,

"You got your sight back at dinner you idiot," Damian yelled into his room now as well, "Get your ass in motion or I'll spear it with my sword," Darren growled at them, wanting to point out that weapons were not allowed upstairs and out of the cave, but instead stumbled to his feet and hurried to get dressed for training.

Once downstairs in the Batcave and after they warmed up a little bit, they split off into different types of workouts for the time they'd be in training. For Darren, Dick, Tim and Damian it was weight training,

"I have enhanced strength. Is there really anything I can improve on with that?" Darren asked Dick as he rolled over some round weights for him and Damian. He sat on the tumbling floor, Damian a few feet away looking bored. Tim was doing rope climbs to start, Dick was in charge of setting him and Damian up and both Stephanie and Barbara were sparring with Bruce on the sparring grounds,

"Well, we did see how much you can lift with your enhanced abilities so we're going to add a little extra for you to do muscle-ups on the high bar with," Dick said cheerfully. Darren didn't know how he stayed so chipper in the mornings. After rolling his eyes he glanced at the weights Dick had put before him and the ankle weights he strapped onto his ankles,

"Those and the ankle weights? I won't be able to walk over to the bar,"

"Tt," Damian snorted, "That sounds like a you problem," he already had the weights attached to the dip belt he had around his waist. He made his way over to the bar to do his sets. Usually, when Darren trained if he complained or said anything that didn't relate to the training exercise at the moment, he'd get yelled at or ridiculed, perhaps punished if the comment was insulting enough or he goofed off too much. Here it was different and while Darren perhaps wasn't used to it, he definitely liked it way better,

"Well this will add more muscle mass," Dick said, attaching the weights to the belt, "Quit complaining you won't be able to always rely on your enhanced abilities, you'll do fine,"

"I know I will," Darren said, "it's just not fair I get double the sets that Damian or Tim or you do,"

"That is because of your enhanced abilities you love to bring up so much," Dick stated wryly, "now go to the high bar. There's room for you and Damian. I have to do my rope climbs," Darren rolled his eyes and got to his feet, dragging the weights over to where Damian had already started doing his muscle ups,

"Tim, no cheating. Don't use your legs!" Darren missed Tim's response as he started his workout, but he figured it wasn't a very pleasant one. After his fifty muscle ups—Damian only had to do twenty-five, and his weight load wasn't even that much—he did his own workouts from when he had been trained by the Talons, without the weights though. Perhaps he did not like to remember those days or times or really most of his experience there, but their workouts were tough and yielded great results, Darren liked the challenge. Later he did his rope climbs, fifty of those too, before collapsing on the tumbling floor exhausted,

"We still have sparring," Damian growled, standing over him. He'd already gotten his break because of the fewer sets, "we will not slack on your training to be nonlethal," so for the next hour, while Tim and Dick sparred in the sparring area next to theirs, he and Damian practiced with the eskirma sticks. They were trying to see which weapon would be best suitable to replace the dual blades Darren was so used to wielding. Damian figured the eskirma sticks would be best, but they were still going to try other less lethal weapons before deciding on one type. Personally Darren didn't want to give up his swords, but at the moment that wasn't up to him. When, not if _when_ , the Court attacks him and he doesn't have his dual blades with him perhaps they'll see their value then. Stephanie, Barbara and Bruce were doing their workouts now while they did their rounds of fighting,

"Keep your balance Darren. I know you can flip around easily without minding your balance as much but you still need to consider it," Damian snapped, "Especially if you want to keep yourself from accidentally stumbling into a killing stroke," Darren jerked a nod at that and readjusted his footwork. Usually he wasn't so unbalanced, but for some reason constantly reminding himself not to kill made him forget about his foot placement which kept him imbalanced which of course was bad in a fight. It reminded him of Asher, who'd always messed up his balance while fighting. Asher was his only friend back at the Nest…who he had killed in the labyrinth. His expression and thoughts darkened and he struck with a little more force than necessary. A loud crack echoed through the cave as the eskirma stick Darren struck with broke in two,

"Oops," he deadpanned. Damian just narrowed his eyes at him,

"It wasn't a killing move, but too much force can break a lot of bones unintentionally," he stated,

"I know that," Darren muttered,

"Get a new one. We're going again." It continued like this until it was time for the burnout. An end of training workout they all completed. Though most of the time, the more acrobatically inclined members of the group ended up just doing press handstands as their burnout, which included Darren, Dick and sometimes Barbara if she felt up to it. Darren had to do it with ankle weights in order for it to 'count' though. Finally training was over for the day. It had been a great training session, if only Darren's heel would stop bothering him. He frowned as the others meandered about the cave. Getting towels to wipe off sweat and long chugs of water, talking about what breakfast Alfred cooked up for them.

Breakfast afterwards was always the greatest part of having to wake up so early. It was a feast of all sorts of breakfast foods. Waffles—Stephanie's favorite, and now Darren's favorite as well—pancakes, toast, eggs, various fruits, french toast, home-fries, sausage, and so much more awaited them upstairs. Of course prepared in the healthiest way possible because they did afterall just train for almost three hours.

Darren, instead of joining the others, hobbled over to one of the benches and tried to massage his heel discretely. Despite him being immune to most injuries and illnesses previous damage to his left ankle prevented the Electrum in his system to function properly allowing Sever's Disease, a type of bone injury in which the growth plate in the lower back of the heel becomes inflamed and causes pain, to develop due to his excessive activity as a young child up to now. He was still growing and because he has never truly been treated for it properly it recurs in his heel after a long amount of use such as training or long busy patrols. The Mirakuru in his system which did function despite the old break aided in healing the issue, but not enough that the injury went away completely. It also did not prevent him from feeling pain from it either.

Darren massaged his heel as least noticeably as he could. He did this because when the injury did flare up, the others actually _wanted_ to treat it, which involved shoving his foot in a bucket full of ice water for twenty minutes and while that may be a fine treatment for any normal child with this injury Darren was a Talon and they did _not_ do well with the cold. He had tried it once, at the insistence of Dick, Alfred, Tim and Dr. Leslie and to put it kindly it had not gone well at all. He had panicked once his foot turned numb. The others had tried to keep his foot in the water, because it was generally the only way to treat that injury other than stopping whatever intensively active activity he did—patrol and training—and he had not taken it well. He hoped if he kept it as secretive as possible no one would notice,

"Darren. Is your heel bothering you?" Dick asked a few minutes later. He had a careful eye on Darren now, who felt like a deer trapped in headlights. He remembered how the last time they tried to ice his foot went and he couldn't help but feel panicked at the thought of it happening again. He glanced at the entrance of the Cave. No one was really paying attention at the moment,

"No," he said quickly,

"Darren…" Dick started but Darren was already sprinting towards the stairs and to the exit of the Cave, "Darren! Get back here! We need to treat it!" But Darren didn't stop, not even when he heard Bruce say to Dick down in the Cave below,

"Don't worry. He'll be up on the chandeliers and rafters for a while, but he'll come down eventually." It was a battle of wills then, and Darren wasn't going to lose.

* * *

Darren sprinted upstairs and leapt into the rafters of the house, leaping from one to the other until he was deep in the manor and hidden from the others. It was like a game of cat and mouse for a while, Dick and Barbara hunting for him and trying to convince him to get down. He'd always been good at hide and seek. He was quiet and usually quite patient, especially when he was trying to avoid something. William had hated it and his punishments were often worse than they were initially when Darren was quick and stupid enough to run off and hide from him when he was little. Eventually they got Alfred to get him down,

"Master Darren, if you do not treat your foot your brunch will be tossed,"

"You're bluffing, you know I need that food," he said,

"Your physical condition is as important as your calorie intake and if one goes so does the other,"

"I can make my own food," Darren called down, feeling smug and shifting his position on the rafters,

"Not if you're barred from my kitchen,"

"You couldn't possibly do that," Alfred gave him a fierce stare from below that seemed to say _'oh just watch me,'_

"He's serious Darren. He's done it before," Dick said, "Just come down, the sooner you get it over with the better," Darren looked down at them from the shadows, his stomach growling at the smell of brunch still wafting through the manor before grudgingly leaping down to the floor before the others, letting out a hiss at the heavy impact on his already throbbing heel,

"Is it really that bad?" Dick asked, walking alongside Darren as he hobbled to the living room where the ice water filled bucket was already placed,

"No," Darren replied shortly. He felt dread snake up his spine at the sight of the bucket. Apparently he looked like he was about to bolt again because Dick lightly, but firmly, grabbed his arm and pulled him with him to the couch,

"You've already done this before. You know it won't freeze you completely, we're here…you're not back there…you are fine and this is helping you,"

"There's no real proof of that because it keeps _coming_ back," Darren growled, eyeing the bucket with distaste,

"It's a _chronic_ injury Darren. Just do it, it's only twenty minutes. And I am here," He really didn't like that Dick kept saying that. Of course he knew Dick was there. Even so Darren didn't want to do this, he almost couldn't bring himself to do it, but he took a deep breath and shoved his left foot into the ice water. The cold hit him hard and he gritted his teeth against it. The timer had started but Darren knew it would be an eternity before it went off.

Darren sat there, silent despite the tremors that were wracking through his body. His body temperature had probably dropped dangerously lower than it already was and he was shivering in his long sleeved shirt. Dick had offered to grab him a thicker sweater or a sweatshirt but Darren had jerked his head no, it wouldn't make a difference at this point. He bit the inside of his cheek trying to keep his teeth from chattering. He didn't know how long it had been but it felt like ages. His heart suddenly stuttered and skipped a beat, he _felt_ it. He stiffened at the sensation, filling with quiet dread. Dick noticed the look of shock on his face and maybe fear—it is known that when a Talon is put in cold storage, or is frozen like a statue out in the cold, their heart stops beating altogether or at least beats too slow for it to register by ear or machine—because he leaned closer,

"Darren?" he asked,

"I c-can't do this," he said, his voice rising in near hysteria. He jerked to his feet and tried to pull his leg out of the bucket…it wouldn't budge,

"Darren sit back down. Take a deep breath and relax,"

"I can't relax, my leg won't move!" Darren yelled, his voice loud and panicked. He tried again to move his left leg but nothing happened, "It's frozen, I'm going to freeze!" He was shaking with shivers and he felt like he was suddenly having trouble breathing,

"Darren it's been ten minutes, you're halfway there,"

"I can't, I can't, I c-c-can't do this!" He was shouting, he didn't mean to be but he was freaking out…if he did freeze…what would happen to him? Where would he go? Would it be like he's asleep? Or in a coma? Would he dream? What would waking up feel like? Would it be like he was _dead?_ If his heart stops or slows…wouldn't he be dead? Wouldn't that mean he was dead?

No, he couldn't do that, not again. Darren reached down and grabbed the sides of the bucket. He was knocking it over, he was done…he couldn't go into cold storage, not like this not when he didn't have to. Dick apparently had other ideas because he grabbed Darren around the middle and pulled him down onto his lap, wrapping his legs around Darren's own like some Dick-Darren pretzel to keep him from moving,

"What are you doing? Let me go!"

"I know you hate this, I know this hurts you and makes you feel uncomfortable and unsafe, but this is the only way to make the pain in your heel go away for a significant amount of time…it's not forever, you only have nine more minutes,"

"I can't…it's cold,"

"I know,"

"I can't feel or move my leg…the rest of me will soon follow if my body temperature drops any lower,"

"I _know_ ," he sounded upset about it too, but clearly not enough to let him go. Darren scrabbled at his cousin's fingers still locked together and keeping him against his chest. He could rip them apart easily, he could scratch at them and pull his arms off of him. Darren could do so many horrible, gory and violent things to get Dick to let him go, he could hurt him in so many ways easily…but he didn't. Not just because it was wrong and he didn't actually want to hurt him, but because Darren knew he was right yet that didn't stop him from panicking. He was also shivering too much to actually manage to grip onto Dick's arms or hands.

He'd never been put in Cold Storage before…he didn't know what that was like or what it entailed and no one ever talked about it at the Nest. It wasn't a good thing. He didn't do it also because Dick was _warm_. He felt heat radiate through his back even as Darren still shivered and his teeth chattered while he tried to jerk out of his cousin's grip.

Darren tried to settle, he tried to calm down in Dick's grip but his heart stuttered again and he tried to escape again,

"Please. I can't do this, I can't…please Dick let me go," he probably sounded pathetic, he hated the way his voice sounded in his own ears. Tired, scared and on the verge of hysteria,

"Six more minutes Darren,"

"I can't move my leg!" Darren yelled, trying to worm his way out of the hug trap Dick had created. It was futile, acrobats and trapeze artists had insane grip strength Darren should know. His chest was heaving and he was on the verge of hyperventilating, "My heart keeps stuttering…it keeps stopping…it's going to stop and—and—,"

"Darren," Dick hissed in his ear, "You're heart is fine, you are breathing, you are alive…yes your foot is numb and you are cold but you are _not_ dying. _Breathe_ ," Darren let out short panicked pants of breath, "Think of something else,"

"L-like what?" his breathing still didn't even and he still tried to wriggle free, but Dick held tight,

"Like how much food you're going to eat after this," Darren let out a strangled chuckle, "And how much fun you're going to have on patrol," Darren may have smiled darkly at that, "Not too much _'fun,'"_ Dick reminded him. It continued like that. Dick murmuring various ideas and questions and stories into his ear as the final minutes drained down, Darren's breathing settling as time wound town, his head slunk back on Dick's shoulder. Dick released him immediately after the buzzer went off and helped him yank his leg out of the ice bath. He then wrapped his foot up tightly with an ace bandaged and wrapped a heated towel around it courtesy of Alfred while grabbing another blanket and tossing it over his still quaking shoulders,

"That wasn't so bad was it?" Dick said, "And now we don't have to do it again for a while,"

"I'll still have to do it," Darren growled, glaring at his foot,

"I am sorry you have to do this. I wish there was another way but there really isn't," Dick said,

"I know," Darren said pulling the blanket tighter around him, "At least you _care_ about treating it," Dick nodded, a frown on his face as he said,

"Of course we care about treating your heel, we care about _you_." He then got up and brought out a giant plate of food for him to eat in the living room. Darren ate in comfortable silence with Dick next to him on the couch.

* * *

Tim was tapping his pencil against his notebook trying to figure out how to say a certain phrase in Spanish for his assignment that was due on Monday. Usually after Saturday morning training—the bane of his existence, he hated it as much as everyone else did. The only one who liked the training session was Damian the little weirdo—he'd either work on schoolwork or casework. Casework involved compiling notes he'd taken on the cases they took and investigated over the week, trying to find clues or connections or patterns to work with. He'd then transfer all that into one file on his computer to send to the batcomputer for Bruce to look over later that day, or he'd move it to the bulletin board he had in his room. It doubled as one he used for school and one he used for casework.

The school side is the one usually facing outwards while the casework was against the wall so no one would see. He'd then try and stringi-link everything together. It was a lot of work, but it made solving certain cases easier. When it was Arkham escapees things were solved so much quicker because they had telltale MOs. Mob bosses, criminals and other types of killers were usually harder to peg. With the other types of criminals or new criminals that sometimes pop up they had to discover their MOs and backtrack from there or start with the backtracking to discover their MO and therefore deduce what they were going to do next and plan a way to trap them,

"Tim?" Darren's voice called from his open doorway. Tim jerked in his seat at his desk, the pencil clattering from his hand. He hadn't even heard Darren approach and the wood flooring near his room was the creakiest in the whole Manor, it was why he had picked the room. Darren was always like that silent and watchful, like a cat. He moved soundlessly anywhere he was and often gave people mini heart attacks by appearing where they don't expect him to be or by talking to them as if they knew he had been there the whole time, which they had not. It was probably best he hadn't chosen another bird name for himself, it wouldn't have fit him.

Tim calmed himself and spun in his chair to face Darren who stood in the doorway sheepishly. His left foot wrapped up. Dick, Bruce and Alfred had finally got him out of the rafters a few hours ago since he'd run off. Tim had heard the commotion and the saga of actually getting Darren to ice his foot. Tim couldn't blame him, having had to do buckets of ice water on various limbs himself, it was not a pleasant experience. And already having a vulnerability with the cold made it worse. He'd heard Darren yelling and panicking at the cold and Dick trying to calm him down with gentle words and distractions. The commotion didn't last as long this time though which was promising,

"Yeah?" he asked,

"Why did you talk to her even though I told you she might be a Talon?" Tim held back a frown. Was he still on this? Didn't he tell him to let it go,

"I saw someone in need, who was lost, on her first day of school. I couldn't ignore that and I didn't know it was _her_ until she turned around,"

"She could be _dangerous_ ,"

"We don't know that for sure. We don't know anything about her," Tim replied, leaning to the side in his chair to reach for the pencil he dropped before righting himself once again,

"I got her name,"

"You did?" Tim asked, interest piqued,

"Livia Baudelaire,"

"Like from that book series?" Tim asked, " _A Series of Unfortunate Events?_ " Darren nodded in confirmation, though Tim guessed he'd never read the series it was probably brought up in the conversation he'd had with her while the rest of them were in the office, "Okay, that sounds sketchily fake,"

"She said it annoyed her that everyone connected her name to the book,"

"Well, Livia isn't that common a name these days. We could probably find her if she's in the system, but that might not help with anything,"

"She said her father works at the hospital,"

"We might be able to find her father, and that would probably prove that she's not a Talon…but not that she isn't associated with the Court in general if what you believe is true that is. I still don't buy it, but you seem to be concerned still,"

"I know…but it's something right?" he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly and shifting from foot to foot,

"It is something. But I really don't think she's a spy. You're going off of a physical attribute not actual evidence,"

"She was there the day I got my tattoo, and she now attends your school…isn't that cause for alarm?" Darren insisted,

"That's just coincidence," Tim replied, "It's not substantial,"

"Fair enough," Darren muttered, apparently ending the conversation. Tim took the cue and turned back to his notebooks. Silence for a few moments then,

"Tim?" Darren asked again, clearly not done talking. Tim grunted for him to continue, "did you know my sister?" Tim cringed. He remembered her, that's for sure, trying to seduce him in Titans Tower some time ago—for some completely obscure reason—completely naked on his bed. He'd never live that down, Steph had found out from someone who had walked in on them and thought the completely wrong thing and that had not been a pleasant fight.

Tim understood why Darren was asking him. Darren was curious. he knew nothing about his family and while being curious about those related to you was a good thing, with the family he had curiosity _will_ kill the cat,

"I…uh…yeah…I knew her," Tim stammered, shaking those memories out of his head,

"Really?" Darren asked, clearly intrigued,

"Yeah. She was a member of the Teen Titans,"

"What…what is she like?" Tim paused,

"She's…complicated. She doesn't like your father that's for sure, and instead of remaining a hero she's gone off on her own doing her own thing. What that is I'm not completely sure of, but I don't think she's in Gotham anymore,"

"Oh," Darren said, clearly disappointed, "Well thanks," he said before leaving. Tim tapped his pencil on his desk again, deep in thought before he started sweeping through the mess on his desk looking for a piece of paper he once had that contained Rose Wilson's phone number. Perhaps Grant and Joseph were MIA at the moment, but Rose was somewhere and easier to contact.

* * *

A/N: Yay! So Rose might be making an appearance later in this story! Also, the whole Rose trying to seduce Tim, I didn't remember if that had been a thing so I looked it up online and it apparently was so I thought...hey wouldn't it be funny if Darren brought her up and that's the first thing Tim regrettably and embarrassingly thinks of? Though maybe the site was wrong...idk, but I put it in there anyway!

I also don't really know that much about Rose's character except for how she joined the Teen Titans and why she hates her father. If any of you have other information on her character, please PM me, it would be very helpful in bringing an accurate representation of her character to this story which I strive to do for any character I write about that is not my own.

For the training: they have Darren do more sets because as it says in the chapter they don't want him to rely on his enhanced strength all the time, they want to push him which is why there is more for him to do and more weight for him to do it with. Darren is also more athletic than most of the Bats _because_ of the Mirakuru and the Electrum, which is again, why there is more for Darren. Just felt I should explain that.

Hope you liked this chapter! Any questions, concerns and thoughts please please please REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! I love hearing your opinions and ideas!

Next chapter will be on Thursday!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Okay, I really just have to say: "he isn't a Gary sue, he isn't an all powerful god-like mc thought up in some repressed child's OC wet dreams" is my new all time favorite sentence ever created. Thanks so much for the wonderful review TheGamerOfLife! Just wanted to give you a shout out for that! Here's the next chapter everyone.

Also, don't worry, Slade will be a thing, he will happen in this story. Just be patient...I have...plans, oh so so many plans :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 9

Darren glared down at his wrapped ankle. He was still annoyed that they had to treat it yesterday, he was lucky they didn't suggest doing it again that morning though. Most would do it three times in one day, Darren could barely get through the first of the twenty minute ice bath for his foot. He'd never be able to do three per day. Darren shifted from glaring at the wrapped foot to glaring at the suit on the bed next to him. There was a fundraiser for the new wing of the hospital tonight, they had discussed it in passing but never whether Darren would be attending. Apparently they thought he was going to go. A knock on his door sounded,

"Darren?" Dick called,

"What?" Darren nearly snapped, he was in a pissy mood,

"Are you getting ready?"

"No," Dick opened the door, eyebrow raised,

"Why not?" he questioned,

"I don't want to go,"

"We figured," he said dryly, "We all don't particularly don't want to go either,"

"Then why don't we all not go,"

"Because public image is key in keeping a secret identity secret," Dick stated, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms,

"I'm not going," Darren insisted,

"They won't be there," Darren knew exactly who _'they'_ were, "We checked. As of now, an hour before the gala fundraiser officially starts, the Powers will not be attending,"

"I'm not going," Darren said again,

"Darren, it would be good for the public to see you,"

"I'm not going,"

"They'll need to see you eventually. If you want to keep the court date in everyone's mind and you in some of the thoughts of the people of Gotham, you need to be seen in public," Dick tried again,

"I'm not going,"

"The Court is at bay only because there is attention on you. That won't last, the court date is months away still. But if you come out for the fundraiser it will spark the memory of it happening and keep people talking about it _and_ keep the Court away from you," Darren glowered, he knew Dick was right but still…,

"I'm not going,"

"Just a few hours. It's a school night anyway so we aren't going to stay for long as it is. In and out…there's dessert," Darren's glower darkened but he stood and grabbed the suit and marched into the bathroom,

"That's the spirit!" Dick called after him. Darren changed quickly and angrily in the bathroom. He hated these stupid things. So many people all in one area, a sensory overload for anyone with sensitive senses and an overt case of situational awareness for everything around them. Not to mention the smothering feeling of eyes on you at all times. It was an assassin's nightmare and blessing. It made them feel like shit but made a kill especially easy…though that worked both ways. For or against the assassin. While Darren wasn't out for a target, it was certain there may be one on him for that night. Even so…Dick did have a point. In order to remain in the spotlight, he had to actually be _in_ the spotlight from time to time.

Darren jerked the fancy shoes on before staring at the last article of clothing with a groan. He picked up the tie and stared at it cluelessly before taking a deep breathe and walking out into the room,

"Uh…Dick could you help—,"

"—of course!" Dick said cheerily a smile on his face. He walked over and slide the tie around Darren's neck. As Dick tied the tie, Darren shifted from foot to foot slightly and when it came to tightening the thing he grimaced, remembering the noose-like tightness Shepard had always done it with but that never came. Dick tightened it gradually and flipped the collar down around it, "There you go. I'll teach you how to do it next time,"

"Really?" Darren asked slightly surprised, no one had offered to teach him before,

"Yeah. It's not that complicated, though I still hate the thing. Always feels like it's choking me, even if I loosen it a bit. C'mon. Let's go down to the others," Darren didn't move to follow, instead he swallowed with slight difficulty,

"You're sure they aren't coming?" Dick stopped at the door and looked back at him, right in the eyes,

"I'm sure. They won't come. I'm sure they're spoiling Derek with his new little cast for his hand," he stated with a smirk and a twinkle in his eye. Darren smiled slightly before taking a deep breath and followed Dick out the door.

* * *

"Gah!" Darren growled under his breath as he stumbled into the building where the fundraiser was being held, rendered virtually blind by the flashes from the photographers standing outside the entrance,

"Please tell me you're not blind again," Tim stated, somewhere off to his left,

"No, just stupid bright flashes," he hissed, rubbing his eyes and trying to dissipate the fuzziness of his vision,

"Why does it hurt for you if you can't feel pain?" Damian asked, walking in, Dick and Bruce behind him,

"I don't know," Darren replied shrugging, relaxing as his vision returned to normal. The voices of all the other guests were thunderous in his ears, the music overpowering and it felt like there were thousands instead of just around a hundred people in the large venue. Darren instantly felt like he was being smothered,

"Ears and eyes are more sensitive than other parts of the body," Tim said, "Maybe that has something to do with it?"

"Let's not discuss this right here boys," Bruce stated, "Go on in, we're blocking the entrance," Bruce left them to speak to the host of the event while Dick wandered off to find Babs, who was his plus one but opted to arrive alone without the hoard of paparazzi waiting for her at the entrance. Tim had already disappeared, where or to do what Darren did not know and Damian was Damian and went to sulk in the corner somewhere.

Darren didn't exactly mind, he was confident that no one would try anything even if he was alone. There were many Owl members within the elite of Gotham, but they would never do the dirty work themselves so Darren wandered off through the crowd in search for the dessert table. The only reason he was somewhat excited to be at the event.

He found the dessert table a few ways away in front of the side entrance to the location. Stacked with various cookies, brownies, pastries, a chocolate fountain and cakes. His mouth watered and though they did have a small dinner before heading out his stomach rumbled. Darren didn't even bother taking a plate, he just started shoving food into his mouth. After downing five brownies and two cookies he eyed the pastries suspiciously. He'd never seen those kind before and he experimentally nibbled on the end of one before shoving the rest of it in his mouth and picking up three more for afterwards,

"Howdy stranger," a voice said on his right. Darren jumped slightly at the familiar voice, nearly dropping his treats. The sounds of everyone else were interfering with his situational awareness…though that might've also been the enormous amount of food in front of him that was distracting him from actually paying attention. He swallowed his food with difficulty and glanced at none other than 'Livia Baudelaire,'

"Uh…hi," she was slightly under-dressed for an event like a fundraiser gala but her green dress made her eyes appear luminous and bright. Her hair was braided and wrapped around her head like a crown with a few pieces—the red stripe included—hanging out in front, "What are you doing here?" he blurted out. She raised an eyebrow,

"Um…it's a fundraiser for the hospital…and my dad _works_ at the hospital,"

"Oh…where is he at?" She glanced around the room before shrugging,

"Eh, somewhere around here. I was bored so I went out looking for the dessert table and saw you stuffing your face so I thought I'd say hi," _a likely story_ Darren thought to himself,

"Great. You said hi," Darren said before shoving another pastry in his mouth, perhaps it was rude to say but the fact that she was here sent alarm bells ringing through his head. A part of him wanted to get more information out of her another just wanted to get the others and convince them to leave. His eyes scanned the room obscurely, searching for anything suspicious. Livia rolled her eyes before picking up a sugar cookie,

"Do those pastries have strawberries in them?"

"No…why?" he mumbled around a mouthful of food,

"I'm allergic to them," she said, "Makes me sick to the stomach," Darren frowned at that, Talons weren't usually allergic to things. Some Talons-to-be had them before they were turned but once they were no longer a normal human the allergy disappeared due to the Electrum. But it could also be a lie, a lie to divert his suspicions,

"It's not that bad really. Sometimes I eat them anyway just because they're my favorite fruit. It may seem crazy but it's worth it to me," she said with a laugh, misreading his frown. Her phone beeped, she glanced down at it and tapped out a response to whatever was sent to her. Perhaps he should be more attentive to his supposed spy, but his stomach was gnawing on his backbone so he ate a few more chocolates and pastries—those were really good—as she texted on her phone,

"Sorry about that. It's my brother, he's complaining about the sitter," she stated as she slid the phone into a hidden pocket within her dress,

"You have a brother?" Darren asked,

"Yeah," silence spread between them and Darren reached for another pastry, "I did some research on you," Darren nearly choked on his treat,

"That sounds so terribly stalkerish…I'm sorry, but I'm new here and I don't know anyone and I was curious…I was trying to find you on Facebook," her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Darren didn't say anything, he didn't exactly know what to say. He didn't even know there was anything about him on the internet—other than the current pending custody case,

"I'm sorry about your mom," that was unexpected and his heart constricted at the mention of her. He hadn't thought about it recently…but the day was coming up soon and he didn't know what to do for it or on it or about it,

"I…ah…tha—it was a while ago," he said, stuttering over his words much to his annoyance. He knew Gotham knew about the death of his mother, he hadn't considered news articles on it or even an obituary...who had written his mother's? Was there even one for her death, or was it all just article after article about it instead? Darren didn't know and he didn't think he'd want to find out,

"That doesn't make it any less painful," Livia said, her eyes softening and her expression turning somber,

"You speak like you understand it," he said, his words sounded harsh in his ears. Livia's eyes narrowed before she let out a sigh,

"I guess everyone who has ever met you has said that…but as a matter of fact I _do_ understand it,"

"Oh really?" He didn't mean to sound disbelieving, but he couldn't help it. If anyone in her shoes had gone through what he had they'd snap in two. Of course he shouldn't judge by just a few facts about one person but he felt that this was planned. Rehearsed. Set up to get a reaction out of him. She gave him a tight smile,

"My mother died when I was three," there was enough pain in her voice for Darren to feel a little bad, but not enough for him to feel it fully. Lies were easy enough to weave. It was the Court's specialty, and those who could appear in public were all trained in it well,

"I'm sorry," Darren said, he meant it to, "What happened?"

"Plane crash,"

"That's terrible," he might have put that much too bluntly, but couldn't really manage any other tone of voice at the moment,

"I was three…so I don't really remember anything," he knew she didn't just mean the crash—it was clear she hadn't been on the plane when it happened. She meant the memories of her mother. Darren thought of his own fuzzy memories of his mom and wondered if it was better to have a blurry few or none at all in his situation. He wondered which was more painful. Darren gritted his teeth and pushed those thoughts away,

"How old is your brother?" Darren asked, if Livia's mother died when she was three her brother couldn't be that much younger than her, he wouldn't need a sitter,

"He's nine, tomorrow's a school day so he couldn't come," That didn't make sense. Her brother would have been born when she was six to be that age, three years after the plane crash—if his math was correct,

"Oh, so your father remarried?" Livia frowned darkly and jerked her head away to stare angrily at the floor,

"No. He did not," she said shortly. Darren didn't push, though he did mutter an apology. Silence bled between them as they stood awkwardly. Darren shifted from foot to foot while Livia swayed to the tune of the current song playing in the distance, twirling from side to side, letting the material swirl around her with a small smile on her face,

"You look very pretty," Darren found himself saying. Livia flushed, a surprised smile on her face. Darren flushed _angrily_ at himself. Why had he _said_ that? It was a nice thing to say for sure, but to a possible spy for the Court? Someone who could potentially kill him and his family? Darren shook his head slightly and shoved another pastry in his mouth. Maybe that would keep his mouth shut for him,

"Thank you. I had to beg my dad to be able to come, I wanted to wear my new dress finally," she said, "You clean up well yourself," Darren didn't remember what he wore when he went to Gotham Academy but he figured he didn't look his best when he shoved her out of the way of the speeding bus. He opened his mouth to respond, but froze. His face going slack jawed and he was sure his face drained of all color,

"Darren? What is it?—Wha—wait what are you—," she didn't finish her sentence or get an answer as Darren grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her under the nearest cloth-covered table with him, "What is this about?" Livia hissed at him, rubbing her wrist where he had grabbed her,

"He said they wouldn't be here. He _promised_ , he assured me they wouldn't be _here!"_ Darren muttered to himself, wringing his hands. The _Powers_ were there, the _Powers_ had come despite Dick specifically saying they weren't going to come. Did Dick know? Had he _lied_ to him? His thoughts were swirling around his head, faster and faster until he wasn't sure whether his head would explode or he'd be thrown into a panic attack,

"Darren. Darren? _Darren!"_ Livia finally hissed, griping his hand—which was splayed on the tile of the floor beneath them—Darren flinched from her grasp without meaning to. He tried to play if off like he was removing it to pull up the table cloth and peek under but when he looked back he met concerned yet serious yellow-green eyes and knew he had not deceived her,

"What?" he hissed finally, jerking around and fidgeting out of anxiety and panic,

"I don't know who they are, and I don't think you will tell me what is going on but whomever they are clearly…cause you distress," Darren tried not to glare but he probably failed. What right did she have trying to give him advice, "I say find your brothers and leave,"

"I can't just leave," he said,

"Yes you can. You're panicking,"

"No I'm not,"

"Yes you are and it's okay," Darren blinked at her, "Find who you came with and tell them you need leave. I'm sure it will be okay. It's not your job to make people happy by being here,"

"But I _need_ to be here…I, I need…there's…I have an _image_ to upkeep," he finally managed to get out,

"And you were here for an hour or so, people saw you…those paparazzi outside probably saw you Mr. billionaire, so whatever you needed them to see they saw. Just leave. It's okay,"

"Yeah…yeah…it's okay. I—I need to leave,"

"I'm going to get out from under here…wait a minute before going off to find the others. Have a good rest of your night Darren," with that Livia backed out from under the table, "Don't mind me! I lost an earring…it rolled under the table," she said to some onlookers. Darren waited, silently gnawing on the skin around in thumb in worry. Should he go out there…what if he bumped into them. He wasn't truly afraid of them…he just didn't expect to see them and while he stopped fearing them a while ago…seeing them so suddenly just brought up feelings of helplessness and fear he had when he was much younger. Perhaps talking about the past pulled those feelings to the forefront of his mind…he didn't know.

Finally Darren took a deep breath and snuck out and back into the crowds. He didn't know where any of the others were. He couldn't pick out distinct voices or heartbeats, it was a sensory overload, just like he feared it would be. Perhaps Dick had gone to the bathroom. Darren wandered over to the backrooms. There was a lounge area that was darkened, light streaming in from the hallway beyond an archway showing where the bathrooms were for guests. Darren beelined for the lit hallway but froze at the sound of footsteps behind him,

"Hello _boy_ ," a familiar voice sneered.

* * *

A/N: I can indeed confirm that Darren does _not_ have a Facebook. He wouldn't even know how to make one, in fact, he wouldn't even understand the concept of Facebook even if Tim or Dick tried to explain it to him. It wouldn't make any sense to him. I'm considering writing a snippet of them trying to explain it to Darren when I finish this story and if there isn't a third part to it all. I will do a series of snippets ranging from the past to the future and present of these characters in this storyline...arc...world...AU...whatever this is once I finish and it's clear there will be no third installment(I won't let go of these characters just yet, I love them too much!)

Hope you liked this chapter! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! I will post an extra chapter if a see a couple of good new reviews. They make my day and I love hearing your opinions!

Next chapter on Thursday...or earlier!

Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Happy belated Fourth of July for the Americans reading this story! New chapter time! Hope you like this latest chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 10

Chills swept through him as Darren turned to face Shepard Powers, the man's face a mask of anger and contempt. His eyes a bloodshot mess and his nose a ruddy red color. He was drunk and Darren suddenly felt very young and very anxious once again as the man started towards him. Darren backed up, he knew he should stand his ground…he could have…but he eyed the entrance to the main room. So many people, so many eyes. Darren deeply wanted to indulge in the violent ideas that filled his thoughts at seeing this evil, depraved man, but he also couldn't do that. There were too many people as witnesses, too many to hear what Darren would do if he could. It may be wrong but still he wanted so desperately to see this man suffer as he had. Even so he didn't try to attack him, he couldn't without drawing unwanted attention to himself.

So Darren continued backing up until he bumped into the wall right next to the archway. His thoughts and hesitation cost him as Shepard lunged forward and grabbed him by the throat, hoisting him up against the wall. While Shepard was not a Talon, nor was he trained like one, he was still a strong man and Darren was still very light for his age,

"Look at you," Shepard almost crooned, "So weak, so pathetic. I don't see why the Court even bothered with you," Darren clawed at Shepard's hands and either he wasn't trying as hard as he thought he was or Shepard was too drunk to notice,

"L-let m-me—,"

 _"—go?_ You want me to let you go? No. I won't. You see, you've been a problem since day one, and I'd managed to get a handle on you but then you grew up and gained a mind of your own despite the Court's every attempt to pull you to their side, to their view of things. And then you _ran_ away like a sniveling _idiot_. Everything put aside and worked up for you, _destroyed_ …and now the Court thinks it is _our_ fault…when it is in fact _yours!"_ Spittle spattered Darren's face and he clenched his teeth, trying in vain not to attack Shepard like his every instinct drove him to. If he did he was sure he'd kill the man, "You are a problem, and you need to be _fixed,"_ those words echoed in Darren's ears, resonating with him. They shut him down, they stopped every effort he had at fighting as a normal person would to get free. He's heard those words before and they caused him to freeze. The look on his face from them made Shepard laugh,

"Oh…you want to fight me. Maybe _kill_ me even, but you won't. You _can't._ I can see it in your eyes, your face…you're scared of me…even still, even after all this time you can't shake your fear of me,"

"I-it won't matter. I can't feel pain," Darren growled, gripping at Shepard's hand around his throat once more,

"It _will_ matter to me, it will make me feel better and it will be satisfying to see you balk in fear even with your _godlike_ abilities," Shepard knew he wouldn't cry out, he wouldn't make a sound because he was used to being hit. Fight training made him that way, and being a Talon ensured no pain to break through all that conditioning. Shepard brought back his fist and though Darren knew it wouldn't do any damage, he knew he wouldn't feel it, the actual blow still shocked him. Another landed home and another, this time the rings Shepard wore cutting open his cheek. Another busted open his lip and he tasted blood in his mouth but he still felt nothing. He'd continue, keep doing it too, because he knew no matter what he did the damage wouldn't last and Shepard didn't care either way,

"Let him go!" a voice hissed from behind them,

 _"Now,"_ another added. Darren glanced over Shepard's shoulder and saw Dick and Tim standing behind them, livid anger plastered on their faces,

"We're just having a conversation," Shepard said, not bothering to look back at them,

"Tt, most conversations don't draw blood," Damian now appeared as well and Darren ducked his head—as much as he could—shoulders slumping in shame. They'd seen him just take those hits like a coward. Like a fearful child. He must seem so _pathetic_ to them,

"Let him go now, or I'm sure our lawyer will receive a very interesting call," Dick growled, his cobalt blue eyes were murderous,

"You and what evidence?" Shepard said, a sinister smirk on his face and a coldness in his eyes that was all too familiar to Darren. It was a face of a man who knew he won, who knew he couldn't be beaten no matter what forces were involved, "He will heal. It will be like I never touched him," it was true, Darren could feel his skin knitting itself back together, leaving no trace of the cuts,

"You forget that this is a privately owned location with various security cameras inside and outside of the building…cameras that are easily accessed no matter what or who tampers with them— _especially_ by us," Tim retorted, "So. Let. Him. _Go,"_

"Or it won't just be his blood that's spilt tonight," Damian sneered. Shepard seemed to consider the offer, toying with the idea of releasing Darren. Predator assessing his prey…for the first time in a long while, the former was not Darren not at all,

 _"Powers,"_ Dick snapped, stepping forward, looking like he was about to attack the other man, the anger on his face was pure and promised death. With a low, long sigh Shepard set Darren to his feet, though he didn't let go of the front of his shirt. Instead he brought his lips to his ear and hissed,

"Remember _boy_ , you're a problem that needs to be fixed… _always,"_ before shoving him towards the others. Darren, in shock, surprised and lost in embarrassment, stumbled gracelessly over his feet and fell into Dick who tucked him in close under his arm as he led Darren away from the room and away from Shepard,

"Whatever he said, whatever he did…don't listen to him. You are valued, you are loved and you aren't worthless," Dick said in his ear. Darren could hear Tim and Damian snapping at Shepard,

"Bruce will be informed of this. You will not get away with what happened tonight," Tim was saying. Whatever else was said was drowned out by the sea of voices as they reached the main room. Darren kept his head down, he didn't want to see who saw him being led out. He didn't want to see the smirks and sneers of the Powers or the possibly 'worried' face of Livia or other socialites. His breathing was uneven and he shook all over,

"It's okay," Dick was saying, "Alfred's out front waiting for us. We're getting you away from here,"

"N-n-o photos," Darren managed to get out,

"They're gone. They'll be back at the end of the event but there's no one out there now," somehow Dick got him out the doors without many people noticing and into the car. He curled up on the seat like a ball. His feet up on the seat with his arms wrapped around his knees, he clutched the plastic door handle with his hands, his face expressionless. He didn't want to think about what just happened, he just wanted it to go away…he didn't want to think of it ever happening again. _Just never again._

* * *

The silence in the car was deafening. It was torturous. It was smothering. Dick kept sneaking glances at Darren, who hadn't moved a centimeter since entering the car. He hadn't moved a muscle, he was as still and as stiff as a statue. He stared vacantly at the seat in front of him, unaware—purposely or not it was unclear—of everything around him. Dick wondered if he was even in there, or if he was lost in his head somewhere… _somewhen._

He could feel how Darren trembled as he guided him out of the venue. He could see the fear in his eyes and all the color leave his face at the last thing that vile man whispered in his ear. He didn't deserve this, he didn't need this in his life right now. Dick wanted more than anything in this moment to destroy Shepard in every way, shape and form. He will never take custody of Darren, he'd have to rip him out of Dick's cold lifeless hands. Dick didn't even care if he had to abduct Darren and go on the run for the rest of his life, it would be worth it to never see the utter fear in his cousin's eyes again.

Shame burned through him. How could he look Darren in the eye again after being wrong about the Powers not coming? He thought it had been decided they weren't attending. Their names had not been on the guest list and that was why Dick specifically insisted Darren come to this event, as it may be one of the only chances they had where the Powers wouldn't infect the evening. What had _happened_ , what _changed_ their minds?

"Darren," Dick said into the silence, he didn't raise his head or look his way, "I didn't know they would be there. They weren't supposed to be there I promise I didn't know," no response. Dick let out a long low sigh, trying to ease the feeling of guilt in his chest. He kept an eye on Darren, he sat as still as a statue, it didn't even appear that he was breathing. The unnatural stillness he exhibited caused by the Electrum, because he was Talon.

Darren's gaze was still empty and the plastic panic bar on the door was in his white-knuckled grip. Darren always sat like that in any of the cars he rode in. Always sat behind the driver with one or both hands holding onto the plastic panic bar on the door. Dick had never thought anything of it, but perhaps it was because a car killed his mother. And that made Dick wonder if he had been there to see it happen—seeing as it was the Court's intention for them both to be in the car when it crashed.

The thought worried Dick, but he pushed it off to the side and addressed the one thought that had circled his mind since walking into the backroom to see Darren pinned by the throat, blood trickling down his face and such a deep level of fear in his eyes. He'd never seen Darren look like that or express such a level of emotion like that…perhaps it had just been a bad night for him and Shepard had made everything worse…but it wasn't something Dick had seen before. It had shaken him,

"Darren," Dick tried again to get his cousin's attention…perhaps he should let it alone, but he needed some response. He needed to crack the protective shell surrounding Darren or he feared it would never open again, "has this happened before?" a puff of air hissed through Darren's teeth. A sign that he was listening. Dick swallowed before asking the question that had burned through his mind at seeing the clear gleaming glee in Shepard's eyes as he tormented his little cousin,

"Darren…how did you break your ankle," blue-grey eyes slid to meet his blue ones. Pain and shame reflecting within them. He clenched them closed, his back shuddering visibly in the light from the passing street lamps,

"I fell," his voice was no more than a whisper, "down the stairs," fire seared through Dick's blood, his anger peaked so high he almost couldn't contain it. Darren wasn't clumsy. Darren was not one to trip and fall, he usually caught himself or someone was there to catch him—at least _now_ there was someone there to catch him,

"You were _pushed,"_ Dick hissed, "maybe even _thrown,"_

"Don't be mad at me," a small whispered plea,

"I am _not_ mad at you. _Never. Never_ would I be mad at you about this…but he will _never_ touch you again… _never_. I won't let that happen. I swear, I promise on my life—,"

"—don't promise on that," Darren quickly interrupted, his voice cracking,

"I _do_. I swear on my _life_ that you will _never_ live with that man again,"

"He didn't do anything like that afterwards," Darren croaked out after a moment or two of silence, "William was angry with him for it…it kept me from my training,"

"That doesn't change the fact that he deliberately hurt you,"

"It was just a few punches…mostly when he was drunk…maybe a few smacks and shoving around. It was never as bad as the ankle," Dick scooted closer to Darren, who finally turned to look at him in the eye,

 _"Don't. Normalize. This."_ he emphasized each word, hoping he was making it clear to Darren that what Shepard did was not normal, it was _not_ okay by any degree or level, "What he did to you was not okay, not by any standard, before or after he pushed you down those stairs. None of it was okay. None of it was something someone— _anyone_ —older or younger but especially your age and with what you had been through beforehand should have dealt with. And I am so, so, _so sorry_ you had to go through that alone, with no one to help you and no one who wanted to help you," and then he risked it all and wrapped an arm around Darren's shoulders…he stiffened and squirmed and tried to move away but was trapped by the door,

"Don't…please… _please_ don't touch me right now," Darren nearly whimpered, but Dick didn't let up he instead pulled him closer, nestling Darren's head to his shoulder running a gentle hand through his hair in an attempt to calm him,

"But you need this," he understood Darren's reluctance to accept physical contact and maybe this wasn't completely helpful but it was _something_ , it showed affection and caring and an understanding that he had suffered and needed support, "You need to know that you are safe: _I'm here for you and you are safe,"_ he murmured that over and over again as Darren squirmed and tried to struggle out of his hold but eventually, slowly, he relaxed into the embrace and he could feel Darren's shoulders shuddering as the wetness of tears sprinkled his dress shirt—he'd taken off his jacket upon entering the car. And he held him all the way through the rest of the car ride as he slowly fell to sleep lulled by the silence and the swaying of the car.

Dick then carried Darren to his room and put him to bed, pulling off his shoes, jacket and belt—which would be extremely uncomfortable to sleep with—before tucking the sheets up to his chin. He didn't want Darren to wake up alone, but he felt Darren would need space and time to accept that he knew that what happened tonight has happened before, to a terrifying degree.

Perhaps Darren will never fully talk about his past with the Powers, especially now, but maybe the knowledge that they were there for him, that they would stand by him no matter what will ease the burden just a bit, just enough for him to let go of the past and be somewhat, somehow a little bit more free from that part of his life.

* * *

A/N: I do not know if hugging Darren was the appropriate course of action in this situation but I felt that for someone who has been through what he has been through physical contact that isn't violent is something they need even if they don't think they do which is why Dick did what he did. I could be completely wrong but physical contact something everyone desires at one point or another...even if it was discouraged for a majority of Darren's life.

Another thing that I bet you guys are wondering about, which will be addressed in a later chapter but I thought I should bring up now is that yes Darren was learning how to fight but he couldn't use what he learned to defend himself because the Powers are Owl members, therefore if Darren did anything _he'd_ be the one getting in trouble for it and dealing with both Shepard's rage and the Court's would not be a viable option for Darren. Not to mention he was a little boy, what could he do against a drunken grown man? Dealing with that so young must have been terrifying, which is why Darren just shut down at seeing Powers, whom he hasn't dealt with in weeks and he hasn't been in that toxic environment for a long time. It's also why he shut down at hearing those words _"you're a problem and you need to be fixed."_

This is a very serious issue in real life and I did not put this in here for any other reason, except perhaps for the plot of the story, than to exemplify it's seriousness and to hopefully ensnare the mental impacts physical abuse can have on a child even when they grow up as well as to show that it really helps to have someone there who understands, who will be there no matter what truth comes to light. Nothing diminishes your worth to those who truly matter and truly care about you. I hope I did some justice in doing this and that I didn't somehow offend anyone.

Thank you for reading and please please please REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Any questions, comments and/or concerns I will be happy to address.

Next chapter on Thursday as usual, unless I get some really neat reviews, I would then post an extra chapter for you guys.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 11

Darren's insomnia had gotten to the level where _Bruce_ , without Dick's insistence, had called Dr. Leslie to figure out a way to help him sleep. Regular insomnia medication wouldn't help, not with his metabolism but Bruce felt that Dr. Leslie could come up with some type of medication to actually help him sleep, though that would take time. It didn't help that Powers had attacked him at the gala and he now had nightmares about that and before along with the rest of his dreams that kept him waking at various hours of the night in addition to the difficulty he had falling to sleep in first place. He shouldn't be having them, the nightmares. He'd thought he made peace with the attacks from Shepard long ago, but perhaps it was getting somewhat out of hand and he was not free from his childhood fear like he thought he was.

Maybe he was just upset that everyone else now knew he had been Shepard's personal punching bag for nearly ten years, and that he was the cause of his broken ankle. He _hoped_ they weren't upset that he didn't try to fight back or defend himself, he hoped they knew he couldn't have because if he even tried _he_ would get punished by the Grandmaster for it. Perhaps it was stupid to be upset that everyone knew, but he had strived for a long while on the fact that he didn't fear Shepard anymore—how _wrong_ he was—and on the fact that only he and Shepard knew about what had happened in the past.

His schoolwork was suffering because of it all and as Bruce said he would get benched if his grades dropped. He hasn't done that yet, but if everything continued on the course it was, he'd be in trouble. But insomnia _did_ provide more time to do said schoolwork. Crappy schoolwork, but schoolwork nonetheless.

Unfortunately Dick found out he was doing schoolwork instead of trying to sleep and now Alfred would take his school stuff and lock it away in his room once patrol rolled around. Alfred said he'd stop once he sustained a somewhat normal sleeping schedule. Of course he could pick the lock and attempt to get the books and binders but Darren knew that Alfred would just hide them elsewhere…so they remained in the old man's room. Now he just settled in his bed and stared at the ceiling for hours a night.

They had also barred him from the Cave at night after patrol because they knew he'd sometimes sneak down there to train when he couldn't sleep. Bruce even changed the codes from the classic time of his parents' death which was big coming from Bruce, and the others wouldn't tell him what the new ones were. Bruce said he'd change it back once his sleeping health improved. So Darren was trapped and being cornered into sleeping and while it was kind that they cared so much, Darren wasn't appreciating their efforts.

Now, on Wednesday night patrol probably the last Darren would be on if he got another bad grade on his latest test, Darren was in a pretty pissy mood,

"Nothing?" he demanded as he and Tim leapt from rooftop to rooftop. They'd ditched their bikes a block and half ago,

"Nothing," Tim huffed as they landed and continued their running. Darren slowed his pace a bit so Tim wouldn't over-exert himself. He often forgot that he was much faster than the others and they weren't ones to complain about that until they were too tired to do anything about it,

"No Baudelaries in the hospital staff records? Any of them?"

"None,"

"What does this mean?" Darren asked, leaping to the next building, Tim half a step behind him,

"I don't know," Tim stated, "But it means something is off about them that's for sure,"

"I _knew_ it,"

"Not….necessarily…something Court related…" Tim huffed, "there could be something outside our understanding that's going on…they could be under witness protection and therefore she used a fake name,"

"Or there is no such thing as Livia Baudelaire," Darren growled, sprinting forward again. He thought back to the gala, just before the Powers arrived, she had texted someone who she claimed was her brother but he had never actually seen the text…it could have been to the Powers for all he knew. To let them know he was at the event. His attempt at providing someone privacy backfired severely if that were the case. He voiced this idea to Tim, who frowned at the news,

"You never mentioned…you talked to her there,"

"I didn't think it was relevant," Darren muttered, as they leapt again to the next building over…perhaps they should have taken the bikes,

"There's too much we don't know…we can't fully peg her as allied with the Court. Did you find anything else out?"

"Her mother died when she was three…but she has a nine year old brother yet her father never remarried,"

"Odd…" Tim muttered, "Could be adopted or a kid by someone who's out of the picture though. Commercial plane or private plane?"

"What?…oh…I don't know…didn't ask,"

"I'll look into it," Tim replied, he changed course and ran to the left and off to the next building,

"Where are you going? Our quadrant is over to the east tonight," Darren growled at Tim as he followed the other boy across the rooftops. Darren was paired with Tim a lot for patrol as of late, Dick had been off helping some of his friends with various other baddies in other cities for the past few nights. Tim was still suspended, he'd go back on Monday and while it wasn't good to get suspended from school, Darren didn't get why sending someone home and keeping them from coming to school was a bad thing the kid got to sleep in and do whatever they wanted. Dick said it was because they still had to do school work and hand it in on time, which did suck but for Tim that was nothing,

"Don't worry about it," Tim said,

"We'll get in trouble,"

"Don't worry," he said again, leaping across an alley way to the next rooftop. Darren followed, frowning as he flipped over the gap and continued running after his friend, concern growing,

"You're acting weird,"

"You'll thank me later,"

" _Really_ weird. Are you okay?" Darren was surprised in the sudden change of mood in Tim,

"I'm fine, trust me…you do don't you, trust me that is?" Tim asked, stopping in his running. He panted slightly, his breath dancing in the wind,

"Yeah. I do," Darren said, it was the truth…though it didn't change the fact that this was weird behavior for Tim,

"Turn off you comm device and give me the GPS device in your belt," Tim said,

 _"What?"_ Darren exclaimed, "Why!"

"Just do it so Bruce won't get all freaked,"

"Red…" Darren started but Tim gave him a look and Darren sighed, doing what he asked,

"Okay, great. Have fun," Tim said, though he didn't seem to be addressing Darren, someone else it seemed…someone behind him. Darren whirled around, for some reason expecting to see a hoard to Talons waiting to tote him off the the Nest but instead found a girl with white blonde hair, woven tightly into a braid with an black and orange lined jumpsuit…a familiar orange and black jumpsuit…standing behind him. She smiled slightly at him…somewhat unsure, piercing grey-blue eyes exactly like his with an eyepatch covering one of them. Darren whipped back around to asked Tim what the hell was going on, but he wasn't there. He had disappeared. Darren faced the young woman again and met her gaze,

"Rose?" he asked, his voice strangely loud in the silence of the night,

"Hello little brother," Rose Wilson said, a smile curling widely across her face.

* * *

They kind of stared at each other for a moment or two. Unsure of what to say or do. Do they hug first? Do they talk first? Does he talk first? Does she talk first? Darren reached up and deactivated the defenses on his mask and peeled it from his face, he wanted this conversation to be between Darren Crowne and Rose Wilson, not Renegade and Ravanger. They didn't hug…they didn't know one another well enough for that, though Darren will admit the desire was there,

"So you did know that I existed?" he said finally across the space between them. Rose took a step forward, a frown on her face now,

"Yeah…I did. Sometime ago I got a call from Grant. I almost didn't pick it up…him and I, we're…well we're not that close. Neither are me and Joseph actually…but, yes. He called. I answered, and he told me about you. About where you were and who you were with. Grant said that they were all going to get you out…I see that failed,"

"Yeah. I'm living with the Bats for now. The Court is still after me…they don't want me to escape their influence it seems. There's a custody battle, I have a cousin who's—,"

"—Nightwing, I know. Red told me…he's the one that called me. He said you wanted to talk to me, get to know me and all,"

"Do _you_ want to know me?" Darren asked. Wondering if this was something she didn't want to do. Had Tim made her come all the way here to talk to him? Darren tried to match their features waiting for her to reply, but they looked very different despite having the same eye color and eye shape,

"I do want to know you…I want to know you better than I know Grant and Joseph. I want at least one sibling who doesn't hate me because _he_ hasn't found a way to make you hate me yet," Darren didn't really know all that much about what happened between Rose and their father, but it seemed to be bad…bad enough that it affected any relationship the siblings had or could have had,

"You didn't want to come with them?" Darren asked, wondering how differently the fight in the warehouse would have been if there had been one extra person there. He didn't know how he felt about the fact that she hadn't come to rescue him from the Court despite knowing about him beforehand…but knew he needed an explanation before he judged her for that decision, at least that's what he told himself. Rose crossed her arms and sighed,

"I couldn't. I couldn't work with _him_. Not after what he did, how he lied to me and betrayed me…how he used me," Now it was Darren's turn to frown. The only reason she didn't come was because of their _father_. He didn't really feel that was a good enough reason, but he held his tongue, "Darren, you need to understand. I was still trying to figure everything out. It may not have been right after I left the Teen Titans, but everything was still unsure…I didn't know what to do with myself. I was still out looking for my own path, away from the Titans and away from our father and family. Our father _used_ me, he carelessly risked my life without my knowing when he gave me that Kryptonite to put in my eye and pitted me against Superman and I couldn't risk that happening again. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you then, I should have been there. I will admit that. But I'm here _now_ ," she had guessed from his expression that he was slightly upset,

"I guess you're here to tell me how awful our father is too," Darren muttered with a sigh, kicking at the concrete roofing with his foot,

"Our family is complicated. We've never actually gotten to _be_ a family, we were never meant to be one I guess, as much as we tried. Grant and Joseph are excessively loyal to our father despite hating him themselves for what reasons I can't say, that's for them to tell. But Slade is manipulative. He does lie and he does use people," she let out a bitter laugh, "I once thought I would do anything for him. I even gouged out my own eye to show my loyalty and in return he nearly killed me. If it wasn't for Nightwing, I would probably be dead by now because of him," Darren walked to the edge of the roof, unsure of what to think. That burning desire to know his father was still there despite what Rose said. Would Slade really do that sort of thing to his youngest son? The one he tried to save from the Court? His method was not ideal or courteous to what Darren wanted at the time, but he had still _tried_. He sat down on the edge of the roof, he needed to think. Rose walked over and sat down next to him,

"Look…Darren. I won't tell you what to think of our father. Only what I myself know. Perhaps with you it's different…perhaps there's no ulterior motive and he really does want to get to know you…just err on the side of caution with him," she seemed to get that Darren didn't want others forcing their opinions of his father on him, "He's lived a life of killing and deception—,"

"—so have I,"

"But that doesn't fade quickly or exclude his children. And perhaps you have lived a similar lifestyle, but not to the extent that he has…and from what I've heard you only killed after you were turned into a Talon," Darren rolled his eyes,

"Killing is killing and lying is lying. It's all the same," Rose rolled her eyes in return,

"My point is that it is up to you to decide what to think about Slade. We all have our own opinions about him, I guess it's time to make yours…but be _careful_. I don't want you getting hurt by him. If he even tries anything I swear I'll kill him," a hint of vicious protectiveness entered her voice. Darren thought back to when he'd first met his father. He had drugged him and then tried to inject him with more Mirakuru in an effort to stop the Court from being able to successfully turn him into a Talon. Grant had seemed against it, though he didn't stop it…neither had Joseph…he wondered why. Slade hadn't asked his permission for that…or really told him what he had planned. He just did it,

"Red said you had questions for me?" Rose asked after another moment or two of silence,

"Why not stay with the Teen Titans?"

"I…hm…I didn't feel like myself with them. I hadn't been trained the same way they were. I had a different mentality when it came to criminals. I felt outcasted by it. It wasn't necessarily them, it was me. So I left,"

"Did you feel that you couldn't be a hero…that you couldn't be the type of hero they wanted you to be?"

"I was no hero…a fighter for justice maybe, but not in the way it counted for the other capes. I do my own kind of fighting now, something that's mine. Perhaps it's not the 'good and right' way…but it works for me, it works for who I am and who I've become," was her answer. Darren found he could relate to that, to the idea that despite everything he's done, he's still an assassin still a killer like Rose was. She acknowledged that part of herself now and didn't hide it. Darren tried to repress it and he wondered if perhaps he too will find his instinct too hard to ignore. He worried about it, he feared it happening and hurting someone. He wondered if he would willingly let himself go but at the same time he also knew still had time to learn to change his ways. It was complicated,

"If you had known about me sooner…without Slade being there to get me out…would you have tried?"

"I would have tried," Rose assured him, "I wish I had, we could have gotten to know each other sooner,"

"Does it bother you that you're not the youngest anymore?" It seemed like a pointless question, but he was genuinely curious. Rose laughed,

"I don't particularly care about that kind of stuff. Ask Joseph, he's used to being babied by everyone…even if he's quite skillful in his own right," Darren grinned before frowning,

"Have you heard from any of them lately? Grant and Joseph I mean?"

"No. Not lately. The last I heard from them was when Grant called and told me about you," Darren drummed his fingers on the rooftop, "Don't worry I'm sure they're fine. They can take care of themselves. They probably just wanted to get away from Slade for a while and went off to do their own thing," Darren looked over at Rose, her white blonde braid swaying in the wind…he had an odd urge to tug on it for some reason,

"Don't you dare," she said, not even looking back at him,

"I didn't do anything!"

"You were about to,"

"Do…do you have precognitive abilities?" Tim had mentioned them in passing and Darren wondered if he or the others truly had them from the Mirakuru, Rose looked at him,

"I do, they're not consistent and they come and go. Mostly I can predict a person's next move—like tugging on my braid—," she gave him a pointed look, "or at least something of what they're going to do…sometimes I _can_ see into the future," she looked at him levelly, "Do you have those abilities too?"

"I…I don't know. The Electrum seems to be more dominant than the Mirakuru, if it wasn't I would just be dead…but, there was one time…it was really weird. We were attacked by some muggers walking to the car and we fought back. That's when it happened, it was like I could see what was going to happen just before it did,"

"Keep an eye out for that sort of thing again…sometimes if it develops into something else it can be disconcerting or painful even or just plain problematic. Though perhaps the Electrum overpowers the Mirakuru too much for anything to become of it," she said. They sat in silence again for a moment or two before Rose put a hand on his shoulder,

"I'm sorry I wasn't there…I'm sorry you died,"

"It's okay…it wasn't dying that was the worst part…it was…after," he stared off into the distance ahead of him and Rose gave his shoulder gentle squeeze before dropping her arm,

"You should talk to Grant and Joseph…they have a story to share, they understand more than you may realize," Darren didn't really understand what she meant, but she didn't seem to want to elaborate on that so he went for a different question,

"Do they have precognitive abilities?"

"Not anymore," Rose said, "They're still really strong—Grant may be stronger than even Slade—and agile, and they heal quickly. But any other abilities someone may get from Mirakuru…that's all gone,"

"Why?"

"It's not for me to tell…mostly because I don't exactly know the story myself,"

"I see," They sat in amiable silence before Rose took a look at her watch and stood, pulling out a gun and a silencer,

"What are you doing?" Darren asked, standing as well suddenly slightly concerned,

"Well…" she started, but Darren stopped her. He figured it out already…or maybe it was a precognitive ability acting up that gave him the answer to his own question,

"You didn't just come to Gotham to see me did you?" Rose bit her lip before shaking her head,

"You are the main reason I came…and the main reason I took this hit, so I can see you myself. But, well, a girl's gotta eat," she said with a shrug. Darren glowered at her a bit but eventually just sighed,

"Whatever," was all he said, though he did feel a bit hurt by it…all the same he knew Rose was happy to have met him and seen him, "Will you keep in touch?" he asked almost shyly,

"Of course baby brother," she said messing up his hair before leaping down into the streets below. Darren watched her run off until he heard Tim land on the rooftop again,

"How did it go? Nightwing would have introduced you two himself but he's out of town at the—" Tim's voice was cut off by a loud shrill scream that echoed through Darren's ears…too far to be heard by Tim, but just enough for Darren. He jerked his mask back on and bounded off in the direction of the scream. Someone needed help and he'd lazed through enough of patrol for the night, _"Dar—ugh—Renegade!_ Where are you…get _back_ here!" Tim's angered yelling faded to nothing as he left him in the dust.

* * *

A/N: YAY! Rose has made an appearance! Again, I don't know that much about her character and how she behaves or speaks to others so I'm sorry if she seems a bit OC-ish. I really tried my best so PLEASE let me know what you thought of her in this chapter! Hope you liked this chapter as a whole as well!

So Darren runs off into Gotham with no way to track him after a mysterious scream...? What could possibly go wrong? What will happen? Find out on THURSDAY!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 12

Tim paced angrily on the rooftop, not sure what to do. Not only did Darren not have his comm device on, but his GPS device was still in Tim's belt. And he had run off without a second thought because of… _something!_ Whatever Darren had heard, Tim couldn't hear so he had no way of knowing what was going on or where he was going,

"God dammit Darren," he hissed under his breath. He knew internally that he should contact Bruce and the others…Darren could be running headlong into a trap and not know it without anyway of truly finding him…but he also knew that Darren would get in trouble and while he cared for Darren's safety he didn't know how he would react to Tim tattling on him. It all came down to one thing…which did Tim value more: Darren's safety or Darren's trust…and both were very difficult things to choose between. If Darren is recaptured by the Court…it's game over. They'd never get him back. The Court would have him under lock and key, under some sort of watch and in Cold Storage for who knows how long. But if Tim does go to the others, Darren may never trust him again because he'd see that as Tim not trusting him to take care of himself despite the fact that he has an entire secret organization out for his blood.

Tim glanced back to where Rose had once stood…if only he could call her again and get her to help him…she'd gotten a new burner phone right after he'd called her. Not because she didn't want to be able to contact her brother, but because if Tim managed to get a hold of her, someone else can. There were many people who followed or feared her father here in Gotham…and she didn't want to gain his attention again. Besides, she was off on a hit—he'd promised not to do anything about the job, she'd made him swear not to or she'd never visit Darren again which Tim thought was pretty harsh but didn't push—and wouldn't let the target slip away. Though Tim had given the person a bit of a warning which probably ruined the job but saved the guy's life.

With a sigh Tim made up his mind. He activated the computerized gauntlet and looked at the time,

"I'll give him fifteen minutes…then I'm going to Batman," he decided. With that said he crouched on the edge of the rooftop, aware of the area around him for anyone in need of help but also keeping an eye out for Darren.

* * *

Livia didn't know what to think of Gotham. It was an…interesting city that's for sure…nothing like Boston. It was darker…maybe even colder if possible but she didn't mind that much. There was just something about Gotham that put her on edge. There seemed to never be a break. She'd seen it on the news, in how often her father was at the hospital, in how the people who have lived in the city normalized the chaos every night brought. Everything was urgent, urgent, urgent…go, go, go…do, do, do. There was always _something_ , but at the same time there was always someone there to do something. There seemed to be a precarious balance between order and chaos in this city, that balance stood on a knife-edge. The ones that walked along that edge—the Police, the firefighters, doctors…the mysterious vigilantes she's heard so much about—were always there ready to step in. She didn't know how they managed or how anyone in this city managed. And yet, there she was…in the heart of the city, the blackness of the sky above walking unafraid—okay _slightly_ afraid—through its streets and alleyways back home from her ballet practice.

She hoisted her dance bag higher up on her shoulders and trudged onwards down another back alley towards her family's apartment. It wasn't that far and she's managed to get back without any trouble before. Her father wanted her to take a taxi back, but they were expensive and Livia wasn't going to let a crime heavy city bully her into being afraid. Of course…she could have picked any other day to do this than the cloudiest and coldest nights as of late, but beggars can't be choosers. So she continued. As she walked down the alleyway she heard something scuttle and tip over behind her, she glanced back and saw nothing then faced forward again only to freeze at the sound of a scream echoing from nearby…a bloodcurdling terrified scream. She stood there for a moment or two…looking warily around her and towards the direction of her new home, then glanced back the way she came before shaking her head,

"Nope…no…not going to run to my death," Livia started forward again and almost made it out of the alleyway when a gunshot rang out followed by another scream. She froze again and looked behind her,

"Gah… _dammit_ ," she muttered out loud before rolling her eyes and sprinting back the way she came in search for whoever screamed so loudly.

* * *

She shouldn't be doing this, she _really_ shouldn't be doing this but that scream…someone was in trouble and while it wasn't her business she just had to _try_ and do something, she was nearby and it wasn't exactly out of her way. She was the daughter of a doctor, she could not stand by and let an innocent person be hurt and die. Livia sprinted down the streets and ducked into the alleyways, hurrying until she stumbled to a stop at the scene before her. A man and a woman crouched back against the brick wall of the building making up the alleyway while a black and red clothed…person…no, _vigilante_ …pummeled the would be mugger and murderer into the ground. A gun lay in between the two parties. She's never been up close to one of the city's vigilantes before, they were a mysterious bunch and they stuck to a certain set of rules and morals and didn't really converse with the populace unless absolutely necessary. This vigilante didn't seem to be considering the so called rules the rest of his partners did, though looking at the couple she saw why. The man was slumped over, the woman—his wife obviously…hopefully—crouched beside him shaking him as if trying to get him to wake up. Livia sprinted over to them, falling to her knees besides the man and placed her two fingers on the side of his neck,

"He won't wake up, oh my God why won't he wake up!" The woman babbled, hysterically crying. Livia was tempted to snap at the woman to shut up, because she needed to focus and her blubbering was distracting but restrained herself. Finally she felt a flutter of a pulse and she turned to the extremely angry vigilante,

"Hey! The man's alive! _Stop_ _it_ , you're _killing_ him!" she shouted. The guy froze, he turned still as a statue before he slowly stood all catlike grace and fierce rigidness at once and glared at her. He was leanly built, but still with corded defined muscle, "We need to get him help!" she said just as she caught a glimmer of silver in the hand of the barely conscious mugger,

"Look out!" she called worry cracking through her like lightning as she stepped forward but the mugger had already swung—only for the arm holding the knife to jerk away from its target as if it had been grabbed by an invisible hand. The vigilante—she didn't know his name, she's still new to the whole idea of people taking the law into their own hands and didn't really know what names they went by—grabbed the mugger by the front of his shirt, making him drop the weapon with the other hand and then tossed him into the wall again, his anger seemingly back full force.

With a huff of annoyance she turned back to the man and ran over, looking for a bullet wound. He was losing blood fast and it seemed to be around his legs. Livia scooted over closer to the man, ignoring the blood that stained her leggings and felt up and down the man's right leg until she heard a muffled groan of pain. His eyes fluttered and she knew she found the wound. Livia needed to stop the bleeding. She desperately looked around for something she could tie tightly around his leg in the form of a tourniquet. She eyed the woman's grey silk scarf,

"Give me that," she demanded. The woman looked at her as if she'd grown two heads, "I need it to save your husband's life,"

"B-b-but…it's expensive—," Livia rolled her eyes and yanked it from around her neck before looping it under and around the wounded leg. Pulling it as tight as she could and tying it just as tightly, she then stood and hurried over to where the other guy was still punching the mugger and gripped his shoulder,

 _"Stop!"_ she hissed in his ear, "This is not what you do!" the guy threw her hand off his shoulder—causing her to stumble back a step, nearly falling over—and whirled around, going from being crouched over his victim to stalking towards her, before he stopped altogether and took a deep breath. He seemed to morph into a statue once again before he rasped out a simple,

"Sorry," blood dripped from his hands and his shoulders slumped, "I…I lost control," Livia stared evenly at him…he seemed to be disappointed with himself…and she saw that he was not as old as she originally thought. He was around her own age and that realization stunned her slightly.

For someone to exhibit that much strength and rage in addition to the desire to save people every night—even if he did lose control this one time and nearly killed someone while saving others—something must have made him that way. Livia didn't know what made a vigilante a vigilante…but it seemed to be much more than just a physical type of guise, it was a mental one…an emotional one too and they took it personally when they failed—or at least this one did. Or perhaps it was something else entirely that drove him to act the way he did.

They stared at each other, seemingly unsure what to do or say.

* * *

Darren was in so much trouble. He had never felt so angry since he started training to be nonlethal…he'd thought he'd gotten there _too_ _late_ , the woman who screamed was now crouched over her husband…but he wasn't dead like Darren had originally thought. He'd arrived just as the gun went off, leaping at the mugger and kicking the gun out of his grasp. Now the mugger on the ground might be dead because of his anger, not that Darren particularly cared though he knew of some people who would. That mugger did _deserve_ it—at least he thought so—and Darren was content in knowing he would never attempt such a thing on anyone ever again. Even if the asshole was still alive, _barely_ , he didn't have much brain left that wasn't mush by this point.

Now he faced the person who had saved the male victim from extreme blood loss and as far as she knew it, his own life. He hadn't recognized the voice at first but it had been Livia's who tried to get him to stop at first, but also additionally granted an opening for the mugger. Darren didn't know what type of knife he carried but he wondered what would have happened if he hadn't missed. Not many people know he was different than the others, and Darren liked it that way. Livia almost exposed him…but she had acted because she thought he was a completely normal human and he…appreciated that. Someone…a virtual stranger to Renegade… _cared_ about his well-being even if Darren thought her appearance here was almost too perfect.

Livia Baudelaire stared at him and he stared back. He didn't know what else to say and while he was sure he had a glare on his face it was certainly not directed at her. Mostly to himself for almost being too late and to the asshole gurgling on the ground by his feet.

Livia stared at him with slight awe, her yellow-green eyes wide. But the awe and terror was soon replaced with disdain as she zeroed in on the bozo laying prone on the ground. Perhaps she wasn't too concerned for that mugger's life afterall, but she knew how the vigilantes operated and acted to make Darren stop. Or she was disappointed in his behavior and the fact that he had gone too far, Darren wasn't sure which,

"I'm sorry," was all Darren said to her again,

"It's…well, it's not okay…but, you thought you were too late and you got angry at yourself and the mugger," was all she said to him before silence fell again, "It's not your fault…I wish I had gotten here sooner…I know some first aid…but the man's not out of the park yet,"

"It's not your fault, and you saved the man from dying of blood loss," he found himself saying,

"I got to get home," she muttered,

"You should call the police," she glanced at the man before looking away quickly…up at him and then over to the couple,

"No point in doing that for a dead guy. Though they might want to make a statement and a ride to the hospital," she replied as she frowned,

"He's not dead," Darren replied irritably, _"…yet,"_ he amended, "but the authorities need to know," he knew deep down that he shouldn't have reacted the way he did. To at least try to make things right, he turned to the couple,

"Tell the police that it was Renegade who did this…I need to own up to my mistake…I should have helped you before attacking the mugger to this degree," the woman just blinked at him…she was still in shock. He turned back to Livia,

"Right…you all don't kill from what I have heard," she said quietly,

"I'm still learning,"

"Clearly," she sniffed, "but I'm not complaining…I'm going home," she started for the end of the alleyway again. He watched her go a few steps, readying to leave himself as he made sure the woman called for the police before gritting his teeth and scooping up her fallen bag,

"You forgot this," he called to her. She stopped and slowly walked back to him,

"Thanks," she said. Livia turned to leave again and Darren almost let her go but he spoke before he could stop himself,

"Let me take you home,"

"It's all right…it's only another block and a half or so over," she said, "I'll be fine. Besides they need your statement," she turned to leave again. Darren flitted over in front of her, she stumbled back surprised that he was suddenly in her way,

"It's not safe out in Gotham at night…you shouldn't have been out here in the first place, let me at least get you home safely," she had the courage to glare at him,

"I can take care of myself…decently" she added, glancing back at the guy, who was probably now just a corpse. Perhaps she hadn't been the one wounded or mugged, but still Darren couldn't just leave her alone after this. The couple would have a police escort to the hospital, they'd be protected and they wouldn't want to be anywhere near Darren after what they'd seen him do. He realized with slight regret that they feared him now,

"There are always creeps like him in this city…in _any_ city," Livia stared icily at him,

"And there's _always_ another _woman, man or couple,_ you saved them…now save someone else who needs it," she shouldered passed him but he gently but firmly grabbed onto her arm,

"It will save me time if I brought you home. If I keep arguing with you no one will be saved and you won't get home," she stared at him, her eyes bright in the darkness of the city and despite what she had just witnessed…it seemed she didn't fear him.

Perhaps he had _some_ ulterior motives in taking her home…he still feared she was a spy for the Court…but he did want her to be somewhere away from the streets of Gotham right now. She _needed_ to be home where she felt loved and was cared for, where she can wash the blood off her hands without fear of judgement. This situation had such conflicting issues within it,

"Fine," she muttered. Darren pulled out a grappling hook and shot it at the highest point he could find and held out a hand to her, "we're traveling on that?" she asked incredulously,

"Uh…I left my bike really far away," he said sheepishly,

"Do you do this for everyone you rescue?" Darren shrugged instead of answering and with only a little hesitation she took his hand, "You _better_ not drop me!" she hissed, grabbing onto him tightly as he pressed the button that activated the device.

* * *

As they soared through the air, Darren _had_ regrettably considered dropping her…just to see whether she was a Talon or not but he quickly told himself not to…that was wrong. It wasn't the right thing to do. It seemed like an even worse thing to do after what he'd just done…it just seemed completely wrong and he could not and would not go through with that terrible plan. Even so he was a tiny bit tempted to drop her still, he had no answer to the question of whether she was a spy or not and there was a solution at the tip of his fingers...but no...he couldn't do that. Plus that could result in a body, which he would have to deal with and Darren was pretty sure the Court would _not_ let him use their drop site anymore.

Darren landed lightly in front of the building Livia said was her's. He had briefly wondered if it was all a trap when she arrived…seemingly so conveniently, but her actions proved otherwise…for now. Though the knife would be with the police so he won't know whether or not it had been a Serum blade given to the mugger by Livia or someone else within the Court. Maybe that's an unlikely scenario, but it's still a possibility. Anything is possible without enough evidence otherwise.

While he still couldn't see her as completely free of suspicion for being allied with the Court or a Talon, he also couldn't deny that perhaps his suspicion was unjustly placed. He didn't have insight to her personality or her mindset, but based on how blood stained her hands were he knew she had helped the man to the best of her ability…she was no doctor but she had _tried_. Darren knew basic first aid…all Talons were trained in it as they were injured quite frequently themselves, but whether they'd use it on anyone but themselves was debatable and Livia went against that survivalist mindset. He envied her for it…he hadn't even thought to check on the couple as soon as the mugger was unconscious, he'd just been so angry and focused on the one person who was dangerous.

Even so, as he watched Livia hurry up the stairs and through the entrance to her apartment building he felt he had a slight upper hand on the Court…he knew where she lived now. They could work with that…and suspicions well placed or not there was still something that seemed unnatural with Livia, and there were too many holes in her stories and history. Too many stones left unturned. Afterall, one encounter was chance, two instances was a coincidence… and more than three times was a _pattern._

* * *

A/N: Hope you liked this chapter! To be honest I wasn't really sure about it, I changed it drastically from what it was supposed to be at first but I think it turned out well! You all got some insight on Livia's perspective for a change, let me know what you thought of that!

Any questions, concerns or comments please REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW and/or PM moi!

Next chapter on Thursday and perhaps an extra one if I get some awesome reviews!


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Hey everyone I just wanted to give you a status update on the story. I am currently on chapter 26! Which is great and I am not even halfway through with what I have planned for this story. As for after I finish this story I don't know if I'll have an actual full length third installment but I will probably do a one-shot story collection type thing that will sort of have a subtle plot-line and will delve into the past, present and future...so let me know what you all think of that. I'll let you know if anything changes.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 13

Darren stared glumly over at Bruce where he stood a distance away from where he sat on the hood of the Batmobile talking to Jim Gordon, the police commissioner. He had turned his comm back on to find pandemonium as the others tried to find him around Gotham. By the time they found him, word had gotten around within the police that Renegade had went too far in apprehending a mugger. He knew he was in trouble, he also knew that both Bruce and Dick would be disappointed with him. Even though he knew Dick wouldn't approve of his behavior that night, he wished Dick was here with him now. To be truthful Darren didn't mind much the punishment he would receive, he _had_ gone too far. His anger had controlled him, took away all reason, and allowed instinct to take over. Instinct that was deadly,

"Don't be too upset. We mess up all the time, even now," Tim said as he walked over to where Darren sat. He let out a sigh and pulled his knees up to his chest,

"I'm not mad. I did go too far," Darren muttered,

"Well…it's good that you know that. It means you learned from it," Darren let out a sharp bitter laugh,

"Yeah…sure," he definitely learned from his mistake when five minutes after it he almost considered going through with dropping Livia while swinging her home just to see if she was a Talon. Tim gave him a questioning look before he shifted from side to side slightly uncomfortable it seemed,

"You…uh…aren't mad I told everyone you ran off are you?" he asked. Darren looked over at him confused,

"Why would I be?"

"Well I was the one who told you to give me your GPS and to turn your comm off so Bruce wouldn't find out we went out of our way to meet your sister so I basically made it impossible for myself to find you when you did run off and inevitably made it so that Bruce would find out no matter what,"

"So what you're saying is this is all your fault?" Darren asked, Tim gave him an exasperated look paired with a glare,

"Whoa there. _I_ was not the one who put someone into a coma… _again_ ,"

"So he is still alive?" Darren asked, trying not to sound too disappointed,

"Barely," Darren tapped his fingers on his knee, the gauntlets he wore were stiff with the mugger's blood, he should burn them—they're proof of his failure to prioritize the people's well being and the stains would be hard to get out anyway as it was,

"I thought the man was dead…I thought that with all my speed and strength I would make it to them in time, but I didn't—or I thought—I didn't make it in time," he found himself saying,

"That's good," Tim said after a moment or two of silence,

"How is me thinking that someone died because I was too late a good thing?" Darren hissed,

"Because it means you care. You take it personally when people in this city are hurt under your watch…it means that you feel angry when innocent people are threatened. It means you are seeing them as innocent people and not targets,"

"But I still virtually killed someone,"

"But you didn't turn on the victims…it's a start Darren. We knew this wouldn't be easy, you knew that it wouldn't be a walk in the park. We all knew there would be a steep learning curve when we let you out on patrol as Renegade that may result in someone being killed…it was the aftermath that we truly worried about and it seems that there was nothing to fear. Not only that but you told the couple to say it was you who did this, you took responsibility for something you did wrong…that's more than any assassin or Talon has ever done,"

"Except you probably should have feared the aftermath," Darren muttered under his breath,

"What do you mean?" Tim asked,

"I…well…Livia stumbled onto the scene,"

"Wait…she was _there?"_

"Yeah, she ran into the alley way and fixed up the man's leg so he wouldn't bleed to death…she also kinda stopped me from completely killing the mugger,"

"Interesting," Tim muttered, "But…how would that have to do with the aftermath we worried would happen?"

"Her yelling at me left an opening for the mugger to knife me but he missed or something—I don't know what happened there—so nothing ever came of that but I wonder whether or not it was a Serum blade or if she was trying to show the civilians that I wasn't…um…completely normal," Darren stated, "so when I was swinging her home…I considered dropping her to discover whether or not she was a Talon. It would prove everything I thought about her was right,"

"And you didn't did you?" Tim insisted, clearly concerned,

"No, she's safe at home right now," Darren snapped defensively,

"See, perhaps you considered doing that because you worried she was a Talon or a spy set on ruining your life and getting you back into the Court's clutches but your _logic_ overruled your _emotions_ that take you to the killer instinct. You thought through it,"

"I…guess you're right," Darren mumbled,

"Wait…hold up…you offered to take her home?" Tim asked after a brief pause,

"Yeah,"

"Seriously? Why?"

"So that I knew where she lived. You have to admit her involvement in our lives is far too great for someone who has just moved to this city. Once is chance, twice is coincidence—,"

"—and three times is a pattern. I know," Tim muttered, "And there are holes in her story and background, but there's no real evidence that she's a Talon or a member of the Owl elite. We can't do anything directly right now though, we need more information and dropping her from a rooftop _won't_ get us that,"

"I know…but…she's so _contradicting_. She's suspicious and she acts suspiciously but at the same time, she's not malicious and she doesn't seem to know _anything_ …it's so frustrating," Darren growled,

"I know…there's not much on the name Baudelaire other than the books and the French poet Charles Baudelaire. She doesn't seem to show any understanding or knowledge of the Court or seem overly aware on our backgrounds but her actions align way too much in with ours for comfort. She's sort of like you in that she's contradicting,"

"How am I like that at all?" Darren demanded,

"You're an assassin who doesn't want to kill people, who has also killed people. I could go on. You are literally one big contradiction. Perhaps Livia's contradictions are more due to the fact that there is not much information on her and you can't decide whether she's friend or foe because you don't really know her," Darren let out a puff of air,

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," he scrunched down, he was getting cold,

"You know they can't do anything…even if Livia is a sleeper Talon,"

"Perhaps," was all Darren said. He worried about being watched. He worried about what it meant for after the verdict of the trial. He worried what it meant for the mysterious girl if she wasn't a Talon and the Court picked up on the fact that he had spent some time with her. Not knowing enough was a liability, it was dangerous…yet they were at a loss regarding information,

"Do you think he's going to tell Gordon that I'm a Talon?"

"He wouldn't do that," Tim replied, leaning back against the hood of the car,

"What do you think they'd do if they found out?"

"I don't really know…it really just depends on you,"

"I see." was all Darren said, looking again at the conversing figures ways away…the wind only carrying snippets of their conversation that Darren didn't have the heart to listen to.

* * *

Livia closed the door to her family's penthouse as quietly as she could. It wasn't particularly late but ballet tends to go later than usual on Wednesdays and she didn't get home until after nine when her brother, Peter—Petey—was asleep and her father had just left for his night shift at the hospital. She didn't want to wake her brother and she definitely didn't want him seeing the blood all over her clothes. She was caked in it and the smell of it made her insides roll.

Livia knew there was an artery that ran down through the leg and if it was severed the person bled out in minutes. She hoped the man survived…she hoped she wound the scarf around tight enough and made the knot secure enough that it wouldn't fall apart once in the ambulance. The man had already lost so much blood by the time she got there, the woman hadn't done anything but cowered…to be fair though she had probably been in shock. What if she had been too late? No, Livia thought to herself firmly as she entered her room and closed the door behind her, _I can't think like that…I can't consider that. Everything is up to the nurses and doctors._

The light was still off in her room and she didn't turn it on. Instead she stepped through her darkened room. Neat and messy all at once, her bed shoved in the corner next to a large window that overlooked the streets and buildings below and out into the heart of the city. Behind the curtains was a small balcony like structure. There was no room to walk out of the apartment, but enough room for a box of flowers or something. It was cute and Livia was glad she'd won the coin toss to see who would pick the room first in the new apartment. Boxes lay scattered around her room and Livia wove between them expertly as she went to the bathroom. Most of the boxes were unpacked, but some were still filled with items she had been too lazy to pull out. Her bookshelves were yet to be unboxed so all her books lay stacked in the corner and her desk was stacked near to the ceiling with boxes and books as well.

Livia stopped as she passed the mirror. She looked at herself with slight horror…she looked like a murder victim. Blood stained her leggings, leg warmers and the bottom of her coat—thankfully not her favorite green one—her face had streaks of blood from when she'd accidentally scratched or swiped at her face while helping the man or yelling at the vigilante—Renegade. Such an interesting name and an interesting person or so he seemed to her. There was something different about him and it wasn't just how he swung from building to building with ease and without fear. He was a kid _her_ age…yet he lived in a completely different world compared to her.

The blood had seeped through her jacket and to her leotard below. She suddenly felt a flash of dread at seeing all this blood. She looked down at her hands, which were suddenly shaking and were stained red as well. Livia threw off her jacket, followed by her shoes and leggings—kicking them until they were stuck around her ankles—before yanking off her leotard. She stood naked in front of her mirror. She then yanked her hair down out of its bun and stepped out of the clothing around her ankles before marching to the bathroom. The clothes were proof that she probably failed. They were proof that something horrible had happened that she couldn't prevent no matter how hard she tried and even though a small part of her told her it wasn't true that she had tried her best and because of it that man had lived, she still thought with all her might that those clothes should be burned…she wished them to be reduced to ashes because they were just a reminder of her possible failure. Livia angrily switched on the shower and stepped inside, her anger burning quietly within her.

Livia sat on the ground of the shower, steaming hot water cascading over her as she tried to convince herself that it wouldn't be her fault if the man didn't survive. Technically it would be Renegade's…but at the same time it's not his actual _job_ to make sure every idiotic person was safe, even so he and the others that work with him take it upon themselves to do just that. Livia had stepped in when he failed to do so…but at the same time he also didn't fail to step in and he _did_ save the couple from actually being killed.

Perhaps he worried he'd been too late which caused his anger, not directed entirely on the mugger but on himself, and that fact clattered around her head like a bouncing ball. Carrying someone's life on your shoulders, especially complete strangers' lives, was no easy burden. Livia probably couldn't do that…it was why she had freaked out, she couldn't accept the reality that she won't know if that man lived or died and she won't know whether or not it was somehow her fault for being too late or doing the wrong thing in trying to help him. And doing that every single day like all the vigilantes did…she wouldn't be sane if she had to deal with that…yet someone her _age_ did just that every single day.

She decided to let it all go, she would force herself to. She'd done what she could and so had the vigilante. With that she shut off the water, wrapped a towel around herself and stepped back into her room. Livia went to pick up her dirty, bloody clothes but jolted to a stop…a bolt of anxiety spearing through her at the pile of ashes that lay in front of her mirror,

"What the—," she muttered, kneeling and picking up a still smoking piece of fabric. Her heart thundered in her chest…how could this have happened. If a fire started in the apartment building, the alarms would go off…her whole room would be in flames. How could something so concisely and strictly burn spontaneously? _Because you wished for it_ a voice whispered in the back of her mind, _you wanted this to happen…and now it has._ Panic started flaring. This wasn't possible, this couldn't happen…nothing just _happens_ like that. Livia stumbled away from the ashes and sat back onto her bed, still dripping wet in her towel,

"It's not possible," she muttered to herself. _But what if it is?_ She thought back. Nothing like this had happened to her before…or anyone in her family…but then again…what did she know…?

"No," Livia muttered out loud, "This isn't real," but then she thought back to her first few days here in Gotham. She thought to her first day at Gotham Academy and the fight between Tim and Derek…how Derek said she burned him and showed the hole in his jacket as proof. She had no idea how that had happened, she'd just felt so angry when she grabbed onto his arm…there's no way that anger could have contributed to the burned hole in his school jacket. The moment when Derek stumbled into the wall of lockers…had that been her as well? Livia then thought to the locker which broke Derek's hand and wondered…fleetingly…if the helplessness she felt in the situation had caused that too. Livia thought back to just a few moments ago with the mugger and his knife, how his arm had suddenly jerked away from its target as if grabbed by an invisible hand,

"No…no…this is insane," she growled at herself, looking down at her hands, "I cannot consider this…it's not possible…it's stupid. But…but there's…there's only one way to know for sure," looking at her school backpack Livia stretched out a hand and stared at the object…glared at it intensely and just thought of it floating over to her. Nothing happened. Livia grinned with satisfaction breaking her staring contest with the bag, hand still outstretched. _Of course that's not possible,_ she thought to herself and rolling her eyes, _magic isn't real._ Suddenly she felt a weight in her hand and she slowly turned her head to face the arm she was holding out. Her bag was hanging by its strap on her arm. Livia scrambled back along her bed with a yelp, her back bumping against the wall. She stared at the bag on the floor for a long time. Wondering what everything meant…she wondered whether she was insane or hallucinating and how this had happened to her…why it was _happening_ to her. She held out her hands and with barely a thought the bag leapt into the air and settled into them once again. She hadn't even tried to make it happen…or had she? She didn't think of anything in particular…it just happened. Stunned she placed the backpack next to her on the bed.

Livia took a few shaky breaths before a very deep one to center herself. She needed to think. She needed answers…she needed to make sure this was real…she needed to make sure this idea of magic was true and that she wasn't just losing her mind. There was only one way she was going to get those answers about herself…there was only one person who knew her better than anyone in her family and it was _not_ her father…it was _her_ _mother_.

* * *

Livia's mother had been dead for twelve years. It was an odd thing to consider in that she didn't remember her mother at all that much. She'd been only three when she died, but her father remembered. He'd been devastated at hearing the news. She didn't remember much but over a few short months everything that her mother had ever touched had been boxed away and put someplace dark and empty where no one would dare look. The memory of her death was too much for her father, so he tried to put her away and not exactly make everyone _forget_ about her…but just the _pain_. He wanted the pain to go away. And instead of turning to alcohol and drugs or anything of that sort as an escape…seeing as he was a doctor and despite his pain still desired to help people which he could not do under the influence…he boxed her mother away from everyone, including his children.

Her mother wasn't supposed to be on that plane. That's all anyone ever told her about that incident. Her mother shouldn't have been on that plane. She shouldn't have gone when she did. She should have been home. Livia didn't really see the difference, dead was dead regardless of whether or not she was 'meant' to be on that plane.

Everything of her mother's was locked away in the closet at the end of a small hallway within their new apartment. Her father could not part with her mother's things, so he took them with him whenever they moved—and they had moved _a lot_ over the years—but always kept them locked away. He was a very logical and smart man, very precise…but that all went out the window when it came to her mother. They were best friends. They did everything together…but they did not go on that plane together. Livia always wondered when her father said her mother should not have been on that plane if he meant she should not have been on that plane period or that she should not have been on that plane without him. The thought was depressing so she pushed it from her mind and instead focused on the task at hand…the closet filled with her mother's things.

Her mother had been dead for twelve years and could not answer any questions Livia had…but her possessions might help. So Livia, now clad in sweatpants and a overly large t-shirt, approached the door and tried to turn the knob—it wouldn't budge. Of course it wouldn't have worked, she didn't know why she even considered it. So she pulled out a bobby pin or two and kneeling on the ground tried to pick the lock open…again she failed so in desperation she placed her hand over the locking mechanism and closed her eyes before muttering the word,

"Open," her voice sounded strange in her ears…like it wasn't quite her own and the lock clicked immediately. Livia sat back on her heels—slightly dizzy—, stunned at the fact that it worked. It was crazy…was she dreaming? Was this even real life? She pinched herself just to make sure…and it was. This was real…magic… _magic_ was _real._ Of course she's heard of meta-humans and aliens…but people with magical powers? Or if this wasn't magic…what was it? What did all of this mean? A shiver of anxiety rolled through her at the prospect of questioning who she was as a person. She was too young to be having an existential crisis. With a sigh she straightened her spine and pulled open the door. Boxes piled up high appeared before her and she eagerly pulled them down and started sorting through them.

Over the years, as her curiosity about her mother grew, Livia had tried to get into wherever all these boxes of her mother's things were being held. But they were always locked or she was caught or deterred before she could get to them. Perhaps it was because of what she'd find…or perhaps they feared she would discover this supposed power she had, if it really was power and she wasn't just insane. Though she wondered if anyone knew…and she also wondered what it meant that they never told her.

Now as she rifled through old photo albums, old portfolios of papers, assignments from college and work she couldn't help but feel a small sense of longing. She didn't usually miss her mother, but now…seeing her face to face after so many years of blurred smudges of memories…she quite missed her. But not enough to forgive her for getting on that plane. Perhaps it was wrong but Livia did not love her mother…she did not desire to know the woman who did what she had done, who had gotten on a plane with another. So as much as Livia missed her mother to a certain degree, to the same amount she despised her.

Yet Livia needed answers. So she rifled through the boxes, scanning searching for answers in every piece of writing, typed up paper, photograph, books anything she could get her hands on. She might have sat there for hours but didn't find anything. Livia _did_ get odd sensations as she looked through _everything_. Glimpses of roses, or the smell of vanilla…an image of a house as she touched certain objects or a misty shoreline of a beach somewhere. If she were brave enough she'd say it was psychometry…but she wasn't brave enough to exactly embrace these newfound abilities, however vast and great they may be because all of it was unknown to her. To be honest it all frightened her.

There was nothing about strange abilities…nothing about magic or telekinesis or psychometry. Livia sat back in dismay…she knew nothing…she needed to know everything. She needed to understand herself because right now she didn't really know who she was. She was at a loss as to what to do next.

Suddenly there was a thump. Livia's head jerked up and with surprise she spotted a book. It was an old looking book with old bindings that looked to be like a medium-sized textbook. It was thick with pages poking out of the edges. Perhaps it had 'heard' her silent plea for understanding and fell down from the shelving above in the closet or what held it in place had shifted and it fell because of that. Cautiously Livia reached for it but stopped herself—was it really smart to be reaching for mysterious, old, and seemingly magical ancient books? The book jumped into her hands, making her fall back with a small shriek. Livia lay on her back in silence, hoping her brother hadn't woken up before she sat up and examined the book more closely.

There was no title and no author written on the front or spine of the book. And while it appeared ancient there was no apparent wear and tear most books would receive from over the years. Surprisingly there was a post-it note on the front that read: To Livia. The book was meant to be her's…but the scrawl was not her mother's as it did not look like the writing she had just poured over for seemingly no reason. Livia grimaced on what that implied but pushed those thoughts away as she moved to open the book.

—It wouldn't open. Livia tried again but failed and so she turned the book around until she saw a latch keeping the book closed. She looked for a keyhole but found none so she felt along the latch hoping to find a button or switch but also found none. Livia did feel an engraving on the top of the latch and she looked closer to see that it was a design…a design Livia knew well. The design was of an intricate knot forming the shape of a raven. That design was the exact one which was etched into the dark silver pendant her mother always wore. That pendant was something that never left Livia's mind…perhaps at a young age she had felt it was important and only now realized why. It was one pendant Livia's mother never _ever_ took off. A pendant that Livia had only one way of getting and she dreaded what she would have to do in order to open the book.

Regardless of whether or not she disliked her mother and her life choices, she needed answers. She needed the truth and in order to get that she needed the book…but Livia could wait. She didn't want to have to do what she needed to do, therefore the answers could wait…she knew some of the truth now and that was all she needed to know, at least that's what she told herself as she re-stacked the boxes and locked the closet door. She then retreated to her room, the mysterious book tucked under her arm.

* * *

A/N: Hope you liked that chapter. Now you know something Darren(welcome to the world of unreliable narrators) and the others don't! But does that answer the question of what side she's on? No, no it does not ;)

I don't know how you guys would feel about magic being involved in this story but if you read Nobody's Weapon(you really should have before reading this story) I asked a question about something like this at the end of a chapter and nobody answered or commented so I took the decision into my own hands. I really like how this mystery and story arc continues and develops later on in the story...and I hope you will too! Let me know what you think! Any questions you have I'll try to answer!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Next chapter on Thursday or earlier if I get a few good reviews!


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I was kind of expecting a few reviews or comments on the whole magic discovery thing but I guess you're all okay with it and that makes me really relieved. I felt it was a bit of a risk because there was already a sense of a supernatural element with the Talons.

Also, in care some didn't know Psychometry is the supposed ability to discover facts about an event or person by touching inanimate objects associated with them.

Here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 14

"Darren, relax," Dick said from the driver's side of the car. Darren who was in the front passenger seat for the first time in forever it seemed did not relax his position at all, not one bit,

"No," was all he muttered, perhaps a bit bitterly. They were driving to the hospital. Not because anyone was injured or they needed to go for some emergency, but because it was time to get the long awaited DNA test done. Of course legally they couldn't to it themselves and couldn't do it at the Clinic where Dr. Leslie worked. Darren didn't understand why, but Mr. Fox was very clear in how they had to go about this. Everything had to be orderly and done properly. They couldn't lie or cheat…or at least lie and cheat anymore than they already have. Darren's blood itself might not even share anything in common with Dick's as it was anymore, but they had to try and if it didn't then they _would_ lie and cheat some more if they had to. They had to at least try and see if the DNA test worked. They knew Dick was related to him, the Court knew it, William knew it and the Powers knew it…the only issue was convincing a judge that,

"There's nothing to be worried about," Dick continued, switching lanes, causing Darren's grip on the plastic handle bar on the door to tighten as he did so…Darren hated cars. He saw the necessity of them, but hated them nonetheless for very obvious reasons. Dick pretended not to notice but Darren saw him slow down his speed as they continued onwards, "Dr. Leslie will still complete the DNA test, the only people there will be her and her most trusted staff members. There is nothing to be concerned about. She's the family doctor anyway and only she will be handling everything,"

"I know," Darren muttered, "but what if it doesn't work?"

"It will work,"

"How can you be so sure? I have Electrum and Mirakuru in my blood, they altered my cells which make them different from yours,"

"Leslie thinks not all of your blood cells have been altered…besides you still have some DNA from your mother,"

"I have mitochondrial DNA," Darren agreed,

"And we're related on your mother's side," that was true, since Darren's mother and Dick's father shared the same great-grandmother, Amelia Crowne, and all mitochondrial DNA is passed down through to the offspring it could be used to prove they had some relation to one another…of course males could not pass that mitochondrial DNA on but they can trace the DNA back to Amelia most likely…but there was still a chance that like most DNA within Darren, it too had been altered,

"Unless that was altered too," he muttered his thoughts out loud,

"Be a bit more positive Darren. This will work,"

"I hope you're right," Darren sighed, clutching the door handle tighter.

The hospital was a series of long hallways, rooms, loud noises and smells. Whether it be the ding of the elevator on any given door, the slam of a door, the beeping of various monitors and machines certain patients were hooked up to, or the sound of dripping blood coming off of surgical tools, people's bandages and stitches or doctor's sounds of uneven heartbeats, the various rhythms a cascade of sounds shadowed by the possibility of death. The all too clean smell marred by the smell of chemicals and blood, fresh or dried was present…as well as all degrees of smells from every kind of bodily fluid a human could have. It was a wall of smells and sounds which made Darren's head spin. _That_ was also why he did not want to do this at the hospital.

He had never set foot in a hospital before. Not even when he broke his ankle or was sick…it was always a doctor in the Nest. At the time Darren never questioned it, but now he realized it was to hide the bruises, stitches and cuts from training. People would question it, worry about it and bring unwanted authorities into the business of the Powers and therefore into the business of the Court.

Though additionally Darren could see now why no Talon would _want_ to set foot in a hospital. Even someone who lives a life of blood and death has a limit and a hospital is an overwhelming tsunami of just that. Too much to hear, too much to smell it was all too much but Darren made himself press on. They just needed to get through this and then they can go home. It really wasn't a big deal but Darren couldn't help but be a bit uncomfortable by the sensory overload. He also briefly wondered if the two people he put in a coma were here. He quickly shook that thought away,

"Are you okay?" Dick asked as they entered the elevator,

"Yeah…it's just…loud…and smells,"

"Smells?" Dick questioned,

"Of blood," Darren replied. Dick grimaced at that and seemed to regret he asked but didn't say anything else. They were led to a a room and told to wait. Time went on and the ticking of the clock was starting to annoy him. Darren glanced at Dick who was looking out the window before silently climbing up onto the observation table and reached for the clock,

 _"Don't,"_ Dick snapped, Darren looked back…his cousin still had his back to him,

"But—,"

"—Sit down," Darren stayed where he was. He opened his mouth to say why he was about to smash the clock when the door swung open, Darren scrambled back down onto the table in an effort not to look suspicious,

"Hello," the Doctor said, "I'm Dr. Branley, I'll be assisting Dr. Leslie today, she'll be up in a moment to take the samples,"

"She's not doing the actual test?" Darren questioned loudly. He glanced at Dick with a slight glare on his face,

"I'm sorry but she won't. I will. For some reason, I don't know the full extent of that reasoning, they only want a staff of this hospital to take the blood samples. Dr. Leslie will be the one handling them afterwards though. I won't pretend to understand why, but that's how it has to be," Dick frowned but nodded,

"We understand," Dick said smiling lightly at the doctor,

"Speak for yourself," Darren muttered,

"Darren," Dick hissed while Dr. Branley just chuckled. He was friendly looking man. He had an almost ageless face but enough lines to show that he wasn't that young. He had kind brown eyes and even darker hair, though it wasn't quite black…he reminded him of someone but couldn't quite place who,

"Sorry about him, he apparently forgot how to be polite today," Dick stated, shooting him a look,

"You can't forget what you never learned," Darren muttered. The doctor most likely pretended not to hear their banter as he set about grabbing a few tools and devices before turning back to Darren who sat with his legs dangling a bit off the floor,

"Let's get started," Dr. Branley said, "Since you're on the table you'll be my first victim," perhaps he meant to be funny but Darren disliked the fact he called him his victim. Either way he rolled up his sleeve and held it out for the Doctor to tie tightly with a plastic band and tap out a vein to stick, though he didn't really need to as Darren was pale enough for him to see the veins easily—the price of being half dead. He eyed the needle with a glare,

"Look away Darren," Dick said,

"What? _Why?"_

"Eyes," was all he said and all Darren needed to remember he wasn't normal and his eyes would flash gold when stuck with the needle, no matter how briefly. With a huff Darren glanced away, even though he preferred to see when the needle was stabbed into his skin…it was the only way he'd know it was being done afterall, he wouldn't feel it,

"Afraid of needles are we?" Dr. Branley asked,

"No," Darren growled,

"Sorry, he's not usually this moody," Dick said. Darren felt slightly bad Dick felt he had to apologize for him but didn't say anything,

"No worries, it's clear he only trusts Dr. Leslie and I understand that. I don't trust my son with most other doctor's, but I still— _reluctantly_ —let them do their jobs," Darren doubted that was true but didn't say anything. Another beat of silence before the doctor spoke again, "Okay, you're done," Darren hopped off the table before a bandaid could be placed on the crease of his elbow. Dr. Branley didn't say anything or try to make him put one on, only muttered about bruising as he labeled the two test tubes of his blood before settling them in a stand on the tabletop,

"Why two tubes?" Darren questioned, eyeing them in the rack on the tabletop,

"In case we drop one or lose one on the way to testing,"

"What if you lose both?" He wondered if that happened often and the implications of what could go wrong if they lost his blood or it ended up in the wrong hands,

"We call you in here again to get another sample," Darren didn't know if he should worry about that, but eventually decided to let it go. After Dick was done with his blood samples Dr. Branley left the room to get Dr. Leslie,

"See, it wasn't that bad," Dick stated,

"…I guess," was all Darren would allow,

"D'aw, little Darwen is embarrassed he was soooo moody about getting the blood test down here," Dick chortled as he pulled him into a head lock and noogied him playfully,

"You know I can't feel that right?" Darren asked crossing his arms with a frown, though he let Dick continue in his friendly teasing as the door opened yet again,

"Hello boys," Dr. Leslie said brightly, "I hope there were no problems?"

"None, just a moody distrustful Darren," Dick stated, letting him go,

"So much of the usual?" she stated dryly, "You can trust Alaric, he's an old friend of mine. I met him when I guest lectured at his college. He was the only one unafraid to ask me questions and have a conversation about what was taught. We kept in contact and I made sure he was the doctor chosen to do the test for just that reason,"

"See, no need to worry about anything,"

"Yeah, it was lucky that he moved to the city just a few weeks ago otherwise we might have to push this back even more," Dr. Leslie stated, picking up the tray holding the stands for the test tubes, "We'll talk about the DNA test later, oh and Darren I think I've found a solution to your insomnia. Try these," she handed Darren a big bottle of an unlabeled type of pills,

"Are you sure these will work?" Darren asked,

"There's only one way to know for sure," was all she said as she left the room, Darren and Dick following after her.

* * *

Darren sat on the edge of his bed, turning the bottle of unlabeled pills in his hands. He wondered if he could sleep tonight without testing them. He wondered if this was all even necessary. He was kicked off of patrol for the next week because of what happened with the mugger. Bruce had finally decided that, declaring his actions were too much to ignore and Darren wasn't complaining. He didn't need to stay awake for most of the night to fight through the city for a while. So he could sleep late if he wanted. There was no need to risk it all on a bunch of pills. He didn't want to rely on them…and yet…it was tempting. They held the promise of a dreamless, restful sleep. Something that was foreign to him. He had never been so plagued by such nightmares before. Though to be fair, he had never been outrightly tortured before or killed. He'd never been turned on by the Court which had been his home for ten years and had raised him. And he had definitely not killed his best friend or put two people into a coma. Darren suddenly felt old thinking about it all. The weight of everything bore down on him and he didn't know if he could hold off on taking the pills. Perhaps he should just do it…rip off the bandaid.

But, then again, there was also the possibility of the pills not working or making his night worse. There was a difference between a dreamless sleep and a sleep that was still plagued by nightmares he could not wake up from until the effect of the pills was over and done with. Darren turned the bottle over in his hands once more before setting them down on the nightstand,

"Tomorrow," he muttered before lying down, ready to stare at the ceiling for hours on end. He'd only gotten through five minutes of his staring contest with a little black spot on the ceiling when a tapping at the balcony doors jerked him to his feet. Darren padded over to the doors and opened them, trying not to shiver at the chill,

"Dad!" he exclaimed, surprised,

"Darren," Slade Wilson stated in acknowledgment as he stepped inside,

"Where have you been?" Darren demanded,

"I have been busy, it interfered with my ability to come and visit. I'm here now," was all his father said. Darren scowled. That wasn't much of an apology. Cleary something was more important and he didn't even see the necessity to tell him about it,

"Where are Grant and Joseph?" Darren asked instead of focusing on his father's absence. The lack of visiting by his brothers was what was really bothering him. He told himself not to worry, they were older and could handle themselves, but after talking to Rose he really wanted…no, _needed_ …to talk with them. And he wondered why they hadn't tried to visit him themselves…did they not like him? Darren didn't really know, though they did help their father try and save him from the Court…yet they didn't try and stop Slade from injecting more Mirakuru into his blood which might have caused his death,

"Busy," was all Slade said,

 _"Busy?"_ Darren growled, "That's all you have to say? That's all you ever tell me, no details. They are my _brothers_ , I want to know where they are,"

"I know this isn't the answer you wanted but…I can't say right here,"

"Why?" Darren asked, "Because of my affiliation with the Court? I have none, you know that. They don't want me anymore,"

"So you assume, perhaps you don't understand your worth to them as much as you may think," Slade growled, "And it is more your affiliation with the Bats that I have issue with, _Renegade_ ," Slade sneered darkly. Darren grimaced, he remembered how Dick had used that name and tricked his father into thinking he'd left Bruce and his teachings for a life of crime…ruining any of Slade's plans or business operations in Bludhaven and successfully turned Rose against him in the process. Perhaps Slade thought him taking up that name was a jibe at him,

"I know how to keep secrets,"

"Perhaps you do, but there are eyes and ears everywhere, even here," Darren narrowed his eyes, was Slade trying to insinuate that Bruce and the others were monitoring him? Keeping an eye on him? He knew they kept careful watch on his attitude during patrol—as any change in his mentality could result in innocent people getting hurt—but he didn't think they would go further than that…would they? Even so, Darren knew where this was heading. His father had asked him every time he visited to train with him in private and he did not disappoint this time, "Train with me. Just for an hour or so. I will tell you everything I know,"

"About what?" Darren asked skeptically,

"Your brother's whereabouts and what I have been doing since we last spoke," Darren considered, weighing his options. Anyone who ever knew Slade had told Darren to be careful, to be wary of him and to not trust him. But Darren himself has never known him, he's only heard what everyone else thought of him and he wanted to make up his own mind, "It would be a week or so from now Darren. You can change your mind once the time arrives…I would not hold it against you," Darren let out a sigh. He said that and yet the offer sounded like some sort of trap. If he went it would show he trusted his father, if he didn't it would so how he favored his cousin more than his own father…and while Darren liked to think the value of his relation to both Dick and Slade was equal…he still wasn't quite sure where he stood. Slade was using his curiosity of his brother's whereabouts to goad him into training with him…it didn't feel right but all the same…

"I want to go with you and train. I really do," Darren amended finally, "But there are things here that need my attention as well and—,"

"—you don't trust me," Slade finished, his one eye bright in the moonlight filtering through the doors, "You wouldn't be my son if you did," Darren didn't know what to make of that but he had decided on an answer,

"I'll train with you, a week from today like you say. But it has to be in the fields by the lake a few miles away from Wayne Manor," it was a generous distance from the Manor, and close enough that the others should reach them in time in case anything happens…by the Court's hand or Slade's. Darren would not be openly hostile to his father but he would also not equally trust him…not yet. Trust is earned, not given freely,

"It's a deal," Slade said, a slight grin on his face,

"But…Dick and Bruce must know and agree to it,"

"They never will,"

"They will if I convince them. Go. I'll show up if I want to and if I convince them to say yes. At least now you have one alternative reason for why I didn't show up other than I just didn't want to," he hadn't meant for that to come out so harshly but it had. And Darren could see Slade's jaw clench before he nodded and left through the balcony doors. With a sigh Darren slipped through his door to the downstairs study where Dick and Bruce had been moments before Slade entered his room. He was sure they were still there, it was early still so patrol hadn't started as of yet.

Instead of barging into the room like he had before, Darren knocked. A pause before,

"Come in?" sounded and Darren pushed into the room. Dick and Bruce were by the fireplace. Dick sitting in one of the chairs while Bruce stood at the mantle, both with tea in hand courtesy of Alfred,

"Slade visited," Darren stated without preamble,

"What? When?" Dick sputtered,

"A few moments ago, the security grid went down," Bruce stated,

"And if it hadn't been Slade?" Dick demanded angrily,

"Alfred was monitoring it from downstairs. He would have alerted us before any real damage was done," Dick let out an irritated sigh before looking over at Darren,

"What did he want?"

"He wants to spend time with me. Training…it's how he bonds…I think," Darren said, he didn't really know and he suddenly felt less sure in his ability to convince Dick to let him spend time with his father. Bruce may be more on board but Darren always turned to Dick for permission for most things nowadays, "I want to go,"

"Out of the question,"

"Why?"

"Do you know how many enemies Slade has picked up over the years? Many who would jump at the opportunity to make him suffer through hurting one of his kids? We can't afford that happening, not with the Court case happening and not with the Court of Owls after you,"

"I picked the time and place. It's only for an hour. An _hour_ …with my _father_. That is all," Darren snapped,

"No,"

"Dick!" Darren didn't know if he was saying his cousin's name or an insult either way his anger was apparent, "I want to know my father. You can't deny me that chance!"

"I can when allowing it might get you hurt,"

"I can't _get_ hurt," Darren countered,

"You _can_ ," Dick growled, "It has happened before," Darren flinched and looked away at the carpet over the wooden flooring, rubbing at his arm without conscious thought,

"Dick. You can't prevent him from seeing Slade. He said he has a location picked and a time slot. We can work with that," Bruce intervened,

"I don't trust Slade to uphold that promise,"

"You worked with Slade before. You know he is not one to break promises…at least not when they benefit him,"

"I still say no,"

"What if it was your father!" Darren found himself shouting, jabbing a finger in Dick's direction, "You'd leap at the chance wouldn't you? You know you would! Why is my situation any different?" Dick flinched and Darren felt slightly bad at throwing that at him but it was true. While Dick does not have the chance to see his father anymore, Darren did and Dick was trying to prevent that,

"You know about it, I'll go if you give me permission or not," he continued, quieter, his anger gone. Dick looked at him, a pained expression on his face before sighing,

"Okay…yeah, you're right. I—I can't let my hatred for him keep you from knowing your father. You can go…but only an hour. Any longer and I will freak out and come running,"

"Yeah. I won't hold it past you…thank you," Darren said sincerely, and meant it, "I…I'm…sorry for bringing your father into this. That was harsh,"

"Most truths are," Dick said, "Go on upstairs and get some sleep. You're getting shadows under your eyes again," Darren rolled his eyes but retreated from the study and back upstairs to his room.

He again sat at the edge of his bed holding the pill bottle in his hand, turning it around and around before holding it upright and twisting the top off dropping two of the round red pills into his hand. Darren had been daring that night, he'd agreed to spend time with his father out in the open, alone and without anyone in Wayne Manor nearby…he could be brave again that night. He chucked them into his mouth and swallowed them dry.

* * *

Dick let out a sigh as he closed the glass door to the case that held his suit. Patrol was over, and now in a plain t-shirt and sweatpants all he wanted to do was sleep. He could drive home to his penthouse, filled to the brim with boxes of things a teenager would normally have in their room—a desk, shelving and a bookcase needed to be assembled and Dick would definitely make Darren help him build them in the near future—but perhaps just crashing here was best. He turned to march up the stairs along with Tim, while Damian and Bruce sparred away any excess adrenaline from the nighttime patrol.

Stephanie and Barbara were still out tying up some loose ends with the police before heading in themselves, they alternated who had to do that. It was tedious and while the Gotham police department was pretty adept with dealing with their criminal cases, they still needed the guiding hand of the Bats to ensure things went where they were supposed to. There were still some bad seeds within the police force and it didn't hurt to give them more direction when needed,

"You seemed irritated during patrol tonight," Tim said as they reached the office entrance to the Batcave,

"Was it that obvious?"

"Not enough of your usual banter," was the reply. Dick stifled a yawn before scowling,

"Slade visited Darren tonight,"

"Oh? Did he ask to train with him again?" It seemed Slade was pretty predictable nowadays—or he was just trying to appear so,

"Yes,"

"What did Darren say?"

"He wanted to go,"

"And you said no,"

"We kind of argued," Dick said grimacing. They reached the landing and started up the stairs to the second floor. Dick scowled at a twinge he felt in his right leg, he might've pulled something on patrol and now walking up three flights of stairs was starting to bug him when he heard a crash come from Darren's room. Dick and Tim froze on their ascent for a moment before a cry came from the room as well, they sprinted up the rest of the steps and shoved open the door.

There was no one there, the room was dark and the only thing they saw was Darren, tossing and turning on the bed crying out. They hurried over to the bed,

"Darren, you're dreaming. Wake up!" Dick called out to his cousin, but he didn't stir or wake up. Dick moved to try and shake him awake but he was jerking around on the bed too much for Dick to get a hand on him without getting hit by one of his arms or legs. Darren may be asleep, but that was when his guard was down and his strength was not under control or in check. He could do real damage and hurt others when he had his guard down and was not aware of his own actions.

His cries turned to a scream, loud enough to make both Dick and Tim flinch. Darren kicked out with his legs and his hands, which punched through the headboard like it was cardboard, not mahogany. Dick then noticed the mattress beneath his cousin had been torn to shreds, the springs exposed. Darren had broken the bed while dreaming, clawed at it as if clawing at the phantoms attacking in his sleep. He screamed again and flailed, his fist nearly crashing into Tim,

"We need to wake him up," Dick said to Tim. They both tried, they really did. They yelled at him, they shook him—as much as they could without getting hit by his arms or legs—but nothing worked, they had to duck under his arms or dance away from his leg as it swung out. This was not just an ordinary nightmare, this was a night terror. Something that was extremely hard to shake a person out of, but Dick wasn't one to give up. Darren was screaming still, his voice raw and now both Bruce and Damian had hurried up to the room upon hearing the noise,

"He won't wake up!" Dick called over to them trying desperately to trap Darren's legs so they'd be still. Bruce came over to the bed and expertly grabbed Darren's wrist as his hand jerked out, causing him to jerk and squirm and try to arch out of his grip, and used the other to slap Darren hard across the face twice,

"That won't work," Tim stated calmly, he was by the nightstand holding a jar of red pills with a thoughtful expression on his face, "he doesn't feel pain and…and I think it's the medication Leslie gave him doing this. She wasn't sure of what would happen when he took it. It was designed to make getting to sleep easier and to keep him asleep…but there are a ton of nasty side effects this medication can cause. Especially at the dosage she created for Darren. These are a combination of several different insomniac medications…all of which have their own risks. Those side effects include unusual dreams which I guess is what he's experiencing right now."

"What, so we have to wait for the medicine to wear off?" Damian growled, covering his ears by the doorway,

"Or we can shock him awake," Tim said mutely,

"We can't electrocute him—," Dick started,

"—not what I meant," Tim snapped, "It's not ideal but an extreme temperature change helps with breaking dangerously high fevers and it may be able to help wake someone out of a night terror," Dick's eyes widened, understanding his implication,

"No. We can't,"

"It's the quickest way,"

"He'll hate us,"

"He's suffering. Do you really think he'll be any better off waking up on his own?"

"I thought you shouldn't wake someone who is having a night terror," Damian muttered,

"Usually they're not on medication forcing them to sleep," Tim replied tersely, "I'll fill the bath with cold water,"

 _"Tim,"_

 _"Dick,"_ Tim mimicked,

"It's the only way," Bruce said in agreement with Tim, struggling to hold Darren still. His screams were still terrible, his voice raw and strained as he tried to get away from whatever he was dreaming about, "Tell Alfred to put some blankets and towels in the dryer for when he wakes up," he said to Damian, who nodded and left,

"He probably won't remember the dream anyway," Tim said in an effort to get Dick onboard with his impromptu plan as he hurried to the bathroom,

"So he'll just think we tossed him in ice cold water for fun?" Dick snapped, "That's better?" Tim frowned, he did have a point, but it was for the best,

"Usually others would wake up by now, but Darren _can't_. His only chance to escape this is if we wake him up ourselves," Dick let out a snarl of a curse but nodded in agreement finally. As they waited for the bath to fill up Darren's screams turned to moans and sporadic cries or screams. His chest heaving as he tried to jerk out of Bruce and Dick's grips and a trail of tears leaking from his closed eyelids joined the fray,

"Let's do it now," Bruce suggested, no one argued. Dick grabbed his legs and Bruce his arms as they carried him over to the bath and without ceremony dumped him in. Darren was too big to fit in the tub properly but the water did go over his head and torso. A moment of blissful yet tense silence before Darren's eyes snapped open and he surged up out of the water, splashing the tiled floor and sputtering loudly. Surprise written all over his face as he shook water from his hair. He blinked it and sleep out of his eyes, and then looked in shock at Dick, Tim and Bruce crouched around the tub he was suddenly in.

He was shaking all over and perhaps it was the surprise of waking up so suddenly or waking up in the bathroom that prevented him from realizing the temperature of the water he was in,

"What—?" he croaked, confusion lit his features at his hoarse voice and he clutched his throat because of it before he cried out in surprise yet again and clutched at his chest, "Get me out!" he yelled,

"Darren calm—," Bruce started but Darren didn't hear him,

 _"Get me out!"_ he screamed grabbing the porcelain wall of the bath and surging over it, breaking the side of the tub as he did so, the water sloshed all over the floor. Darren stumbled over the ground, his shoulders quaking and collapsed to his knees, "My heart…it's…it's—," Darren muttered, trying to get the words out. He was panicking and Dick stepped forward, and placed a towel over his shoulders,

"Darren…you're fine. I know the cold makes your heart slow down…but it will be okay," he carefully helped Darren slowly to his feet and placed a hand of on his shoulder in an effort to convey comfort which Darren shook off rather abruptly,

"Why?" Darren asked, whirling around to face them on unsteady feet. He took a few steps away from them, "Why did you do this?" he looked wounded, guilt twisted in Dick's chest…there had to have been another way,

"You were having a night terror," Tim replied, Darren's expression darkened,

"The meds," he growled,

"Yes, and they are a trial and error thing. Leslie did _not_ know this would be the outcome," Tim said in an effort to prevent Darren from thinking Leslie did this on purpose. She wouldn't but Darren hardly knew her and hardly trusted anyone he didn't know very well at all.

Darren's lips looked blue and his skin, already so pale, was turning even lighter from the cold, "Go get the towels and blankets from Alfred. I'll get him some warmer and dryer clothes," Tim only offered because he knew Darren did not want Dick or Bruce to see his tattoos, and he was secretly thankful Darren wore a black long-sleeved shirt and not a white one or they would show through and start another argument that might not end as nicely as the earlier one. Both Dick and Bruce hurried downstairs and Tim pulled Darren back into the room,

"Did…did _I_ do this?" Darren asked, looking at the destroyed mattress, headboard and splintered nightstand he kicked on the way to the bathroom. At least he missed Dick's head by an inch. He looked flabbergasted, shocked that he could do that much damage without realizing it,

"It's okay. Don't worry about it. Here…are you _mobile_ enough to put these on yourself?" Tim asked, handing him a sweatshirt and sweatpants. Darren took the clothes, carefully and slowly peeling off the sopping wet ones and pulling the dry on. He still shivered even afterwards. Dick and Bruce came back and Dick burritoed him up in the blankets Alfred heated for him,

"You can bunk with me tonight," Dick offered and Darren didn't even refuse. Just turned and left the room, still wrapped in the blankets. Whether he agreed because he couldn't sleep in his own bed or because he sought comfort from the nightmare or from how he was woken up was unclear and nobody asked.

Eventually everyone else settled in their own room and by the time Dick had finished getting ready for bed, Darren was dead asleep, still shivering slightly even under the covers with the blankets. Dick silently placed a hand on the side of his face—it was ice cold…no… _colder_ than ice,

"I'm so sorry Dare," Dick sighed before settling in bed himself and forcing himself to sleep, hoping Darren wouldn't hate them for this in the morning and the rest of time.

* * *

A/N: I am by no means a biology expert(well not yet...maybe) but I do know that mitochondrial DNA is given by the mother always, therefore you are genetically more your mother than your father or something along those lines. I don't necessarily know that much about night terrors so DO NOT do what they did to Darren if someone you know has one. Just needed to say that, it could actually do the opposite and not help the person.

Hope you liked this chapter. More to come for sure so be excited about that!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Next chapter on Thursday!


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: I got my new computer finally! YAY! And everything transferred over, no documents were lost everything is perfect and I'm so happy! Also, if you haven't downloaded Flux(which makes the computer less harsh on your eyes) it works wonders!

Here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 15

Livia sat on her bed, very still, her back rigid. Her legs pulled against her chest as she tried to remain calm. Things had not been going well. Not at all. She thought she could control this…this _magic_ she had. But it wasn't something she could just master by pure will. It was _wild_. It was _chaotic_. It was _destructive_. And it was out of her control. Objects hurtled around her room. Things broke without her meaning them to, windows opened and closed, lights flickered, things randomly burst into flames or crackled with electricity without any reason. Her room would alternate from being cold to burning hot and she would constantly wake from a restless night bouncing on her bed like she had just jumped on it, or woke to icicles hanging form the ceiling above her, the room a winter wonderland or a fiery humid mess. Why now? What caused this to happen? How come she never had problems like this before?

She needed to open the book. She needed to learn. She needed to understand…but she stubbornly refused to acknowledge the book. It followed her wherever she went. It appeared in her backpack or ballet bag, it would fall off the shelf she was under in the library at school, it would appear in her locker and appear on her desk over her schoolwork. Sometimes she could ignore it and it would go away, but other times she would have to grab it before anyone noticed it. And it would only go after _her_. She never saw Peter running from a floating book…of course she wasn't physically running from it, she was just avoiding it.

There would be moments where she would 'practice' and do things like levitate a book or a pencil or sort through her closet that way. And it felt like being sated after days of being starved. When she refused to use this ability she had it built up like an uncomfortable cramp or like she had gas…it would make her skin itch and crawl like she would burst if she didn't use it. That was when things would fly around her room and the temperature got weird or she'd feel like she was falling only to be in her bed.

So there she sat, on her bed in the whirlwind of her possessions eyes squeezed shut with her hair flying around her. Livia's hands were clenched into fists, her nails biting into the palms of her hands as she waited for the moment to pass. A few minutes passed, then another few and finally…finally…everything jerked back to its original position and Livia opened her eyes, letting out the breath she'd been holding. As usual the book lay in the center of her room like a magical present waiting for her to open. She wanted to despise it…but she just couldn't. She needed to open the book…but she was stubborn…she was stronger than this fear she felt when things went crazy…she could wait. Livia didn't want to face what she'd have to do to open the book just yet and while her stubbornness proved her strong, her avoidance proved her weak all the same.

Carefully Livia got to her feet and walked over to the book, swiping it up into her hands and trying again to open the book to no avail. With a sigh she tossed it into the corner of the room, ready to ignore it again when suddenly the window caught her attention, the hair on the back of her neck crept upwards…as if she were being watched and she cautiously pulled back the shades—kneeling on her bed as she did so—expecting to see the distant outline of the familiar shape of Renegade. He'd do that most nights after the mugging but stopped as of late. He'd stop and stare over at her building…almost like he was staring right at her before continuing on his way. At first she'd thought it was just him surveying the area but then she wondered if it was because he'd remember swinging her back here after the mugger attack and now…now it didn't feel like that. Now it felt like a cat watching a mouse, waiting to pounce. A predator watching his prey.

Livia glanced over at the book and then at the window before walking back over to the book and holding it in her lap as she sat on her bed. She _refused_ to be the mouse in this situation. She would _not_ be weak and she would _not_ be unprepared if the so called cat tried to pounce. She knew Renegade was good…but even the light has shadows within it and that could be dangerous. She was not afraid of him…but wary of his attention.

Livia would not be the mouse. She would learn. Livia glanced back outside a grim and determined expression on her face, he still wasn't there and she let out a sigh.

She _would_ open the book…

…But not today.

* * *

Darren was still cold. He shivered even as he sat bundled up on the couch drinking bowl after bowl of soup that Alfred graciously offered him but still he shook and trembled as if still submerged in the ice bath they'd given him just last night. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to yell at them and hate them for it, but he couldn't. He'd seen his room after waking up finally and knew that he had probably almost hurt them while they were trying to help him. It seemed he'd always hurt those that tried to help him. His thoughts briefly turned to Asher and he forced them away at once, shaking his head as he did so. He didn't even remember what he'd dreamt about, and that bothered him. Was it worth it to still dream but forget what was dreamt? _No_ , Darren thought, _not if the result is a destroyed room._

He settled back on the cushions of the couch, drinking quickly from the steaming mug so the heat would stay the same. Darren was still chugging the soup when Tim came into the room with his notebooks and binders,

"I'm taking the room from you," he said, Darren held up a finger and Tim groaned, "I shouldn't have made you watch _Archer_ with me," he muttered as he waited for Darren to drop his hand and put the mug down on the coffee table—still not broken as of late—with a devilish grin,

"Why?"

"I have to work on a project with someone,"

"So, I can stay here if I like,"

"We need to work, no distractions,"

"How is a guy eating soup distracting?" Tim rolled his eyes and threw his stuff down on the couch, "And isn't this project due _after_ winter break? Which doesn't start for another few days?"

"It will be distracting because it's someone you don't like," Tim replied ignoring his other statement. Darren looked over at Tim with big sympathetic eyes,

"Don't tell me you got paired with Derek,"

"Nope, I got paired with Livia,"

"I never said I hated her," Darren replied stiffly sitting up and stretching his back out before getting up from his seat,

"You just think she's out to kill you or bring you back to the Court of Owls and therefore want to kill her yourself,"

"I never said I wanted to kill her either,"

"You were contemplating dropping her off a rooftop!"

" _Contemplating_ …I didn't actually do it,"

"Potato patato," Darren let out a exasperated sigh,

"Whatever, enjoy your _project_ ," he growled as he hurried out of the room, just as the doorbell rang. Darren hurried down the hallways that led deeper into the house, not wanting to be seen by Livia…though he wanted to ignore the fact that they were working on a project together…he just couldn't, curiosity surged. Darren glanced at the nearest air vent and with a smirk set his mug that he carried out of the room with him—best there be nothing left of him in that room when she got there, that way no questions about him were asked—on the nearest small table and pulled it right off. He then hoisted himself into the air duct system and crawled towards the living room.

He crawled a few ways back the way he had walked then turned a dark corner before jerking back in surprise,

"Gah!" he cried as his head smashed into the top of the small air vent. It didn't hurt of course but there'd be a mysterious dent in the metal from then on, the exclamation was more out of shock than anything. In the widened vent in the wall of the living room sat Stephanie, a few bags of chips at her feet,

"What are you doing here?" he hissed, she gave him a look,

"What are _you_ doing here?" she demanded near silently in return,

"I asked first," Stephanie rolled her eyes and then looked away slightly embarrassed,

"I'm spying on Tim," she sighed, "I know it's stupid, and I do trust him I mean there was that whole misunderstanding with Rose that I still haven't really gotten over even though it was seriously literally not what it was—,"

"—Steph, you're rambling," Darren muttered, then, "Wait…holdup _what_ about my sister?" Stephanie flushed and shook her head,

"Never mind. My point is I trust Tim, I just don't trust _her_ ,"

"Yeah," Darren said, scooting into the space with her and crossing his arms, "Neither do I," she looked over at him surprised,

"What…why?" Darren opened his mouth to speak, but then looked through the slated covering at the forms of Tim and Livia before signing with his hands,

'Do you know sign language? It would be easier and quieter.'

'Okay Mr. Paranoia. What is it?' Stephanie replied in kind. Darren smiled at her, delighted that someone else knew sign language other than his brothers,

'She may be a spy for the Court of Owls,' he answered. Her eyebrows rose before she grinned slightly,

'Different reason for me not trusting her,' she signed. Darren looked at her confused before glancing over at Tim and Livia, listening briefly in on their conversation,

"Thanks for agreeing to start the project with me so soon before it's due," Tim was saying, "I'm a bit of an overachiever when it comes to assignments," he laughed as if embarrassed,

"No worries. I'm a bit of the same," Livia replied. Darren could almost hear the smile in her voice which made Darren scowl, "Don't hate me, but I've already drawn out a bit of a blueprint for the project. An environmentally friendly house is a complex challenge that I really wanted to try,"

"We don't actually have to build a model you know…just describe how it would be sustainable,"

"I know. But I felt blueprints would be a nice touch…would you like to see them?"

"Yeah, sure," there was a ruffling of paper and a loud thunk,

"Goddamnit," Livia hissed, "Sorry about that," she hurriedly picked up what appeared to be a book and shoved it deep into her backpack before pulling out a roll of papers and handed them to Tim,

"Whoa…when you said blueprints I thought, like, an outline…not actual one hundred percent drawn out, detailed, authentic blueprints," Tim stated, surprised,

"Well…I want to be an architect…so, that's why I did it. That or a ballerina…hm, or both," she replied brightly. _Clever_ Darren thought bitterly, he knew how much Tim liked good accurate blueprints. He didn't know what game Livia was playing but she was certainly doing it well,

"These are _really_ good…so you dance?" that's when Darren stopped listening and turned back to Stephanie who was still looking at him waiting for a response,

'What is your problem with Livia then?' Stephanie bit her lip in thought, probably considering the signs for her answer before fumbling through them. Clearly she didn't really use sign language as often as Darren had,

'I just don't want her getting close to him. I feel she would try to steal him from me…and I know I shouldn't play the crazy jealous girlfriend…but I have been hurt before and I really love Tim, I don't want it to happen again. We fight a lot but truly do care about each other. And I know he wouldn't stray, yet he still wouldn't know flirtatious actions when they're given and won't know how to react to them when done. I don't know her at all therefore I don't know if she would actually do this, and I don't want to accuse her of this falsely so I'm going to see if she does. If she doesn't, no need to say anything. It's all just a precaution,' Darren had a little trouble following her jerky hand movements, but he got the gist of it and shifted uncomfortably in the vents. He considered what she said before signing back a response,

'I'm…sorry, I don't really understand. You trust and love him…but don't? How is that love?' Stephanie smiled at him, and he didn't know if she was laughing at him silently or not but she just shook her head before signing,

'Guess they don't teach love in assassin school,' Darren wanted to grin along with her but frowned instead at the statement,

'Maybe I don't understand it,' he signed in agreement, 'I know what love is…but feeling it, is a bit different…but even so perhaps what I understand as love is not love in the way you regard Tim,' Stephanie frowned at that and nodded sadly, her eyes reflected pity…Darren didn't want that so he surged ahead trying to clarify, 'I love my mother…and I guess I do love Dick…he's family and my cousin and has been there for me…I…I wish I could love my father but I hardly know him and he's a criminal. Everyone says he's just bad and I shouldn't want to know him or… _care_ for him like a son should, but I still do. No one understands that. And there's never been anyone for me like there is for you and Tim or Dick and Babs…probably never will be,' Stephanie shook her head,

'Not true,' she insisted, 'love happens at the most random times…and more often than not no one realizes it's love until after some time. Love never starts out as _just_ pure and true love…it's not really falling in love, more like _walking_ into it,' silence reigned for another moment or two before Stephanie made a face as if contemplating saying what she had in mind. Finally she signed again,

'I _do_ understand your confusion about Slade. I got my own father arrested…it is hard to face someone you care about who has done so much wrong, but I don't regret what I did and I don't regret not associating with him,'

Darren sighed before replying, 'I guess you're right…but I still need to know him.' Stephanie frowned, clearly not seeing why he would want to after so many had been killed or hurt by his father's hand—including himself—but didn't question it, instead she signed out,

'Is that why you are going to meet with him?' She saw his narrowed eyes and added apologetically, '…Dick talks on patrol, especially when upset.' Darren winced guilty but nodded in confirmation,

'Be careful with him…he lies, he's dangerous—' she started to sign but Darren interrupted her,

'—he's my _father,'_ he signed angrily,

'So was _mine_ , but that didn't stop him from hurting me when I put my trust in him,' she paused before continuing, 'There's a difference between _loyalty_ , _trust_ and _love_ …and while they go hand in hand with each other, they are still _not_ the same. And sometimes one without the others is not enough,' Darren didn't sign anything after that, and neither did Stephanie. They just sat there in silence. Darren thinking, Stephanie looking at him waiting for him to sign something back to her but he didn't know what to say or think.

Was it loyalty he felt for his family or love? And was one without the other enough to keep his trust? Was he blinded by the loyalty he felt towards his father? Was that loyalty not loyalty at all but just the need for a loving and caring parent? Was _that_ preventing him from seeing the monster his father was? Or did he just not understand his emotions as well as he thought he did. They sat there in silence for a while, their food forgotten as well as Tim and Livia.

* * *

A/N: So I hope I didn't make Steph too OC-ish, it was not my intention...I kind of really just needed a reason for her to be there even if it was a silly one. I feel she would think that sort of thing was a good idea and then realize it's stupid but do it anyway because spying on Tim when he actually doesn't expect it is kind of fun(but let's face it he totally knows she's doing it and will bring it up later just to make her freak out.)*insert evil smirky devil horned emoji.* I also like to think of her as smarter than others give her credit for. She hasn't really been in the spotlight much in the DC Universe so I feel that a bit of rewriting her character is warranted to get her noticed a bit more(hence the sign language knowledge.)

Hopefully you enjoyed that chapter! Let me know what you think, I'd really appreciate some more reviews from you guys! I like to know what sort of wheels are turning in your head regarding where this story will go and what you think will happen to the characters! I'm also really open to constructive criticism so please please please don't hesitate to give me some!

REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!

Next chapter on Thursday or earlier in the week if I get some great reviews!


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: I'm feeling the lack of reviews. I know I'm being pushy and annoying and I also know that a lot of people are on vacation and stuff(the end of August is nigh!) but the way I know people are interested in my writing is not through how many people are reading the story, it's by the feedback I get. So please drop some reviews for me! It will help so much any criticism is welcome though I can't guarantee I'll take every criticism into account but I will definitely try.

Sorry, rant over. Here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 16

The one thing Tim hated about the concept of winter break was that it took forever to come once there was only a week left in school. Days seemed to drag on forever and the waiting just grew unbearable during the last bit before break. It made everything hard to focus on and there was no motivation to do anything for classes because break was right around the corner, they shouldn't _need_ to do anything. Not only that but the possibility of snow also caused quite a distraction.

Now currently in class Tim turned his attention from the window to gaze around the classroom. Some students were nodding off, others were on their phones or gazing idly around the room like he was. To add to the annoyance of the day, they had a sub who insisted on doing attendance and was painstakingly working through the attendance sheet as slowly as humanly possible. He hoped they'd just watch a movie he wasn't in the mood to do actual math that day— _surprisingly_ —though he figured they would have to do some sort of worksheet or textbook work instead. High school didn't typically do the whole watch a movie thing like in middle school. Honestly it wouldn't be that hard to get through the work and maybe the substitute would let them leave if they finished early. At the front of the room the sub's voice rang shrilly and echoed off the walls rather loudly,

"Livia Branley," Tim's head shot up. He knew Livia was in his class—she was in fact in two of his classes. She was very good at math and her desire to be an architect was clearly what fueled her affinity for it…but she had said her last name was Baudelaire, not Branley. That name seemed familiar too, where had he heard it before? Squinting in thought he looked over to where she was sitting, hunched over her desk hands massaging her forehead as if her head hurt, "Livia Branley?" the substitute called out again,

"…Here!" she called out, jumping as if surprised, "And it's Baudelaire," she added,

"But it says—,"

"—It's wrong. It's Baudelaire," she insisted, "Trust me," the teacher eyed her suspiciously, no doubt wondering if she was about to be the tail-end of some joke before shrugging,

"It's still in the B's, there's no real rearranging of the order,"

"Very well," the substitute replied, shrugging again, "Jared Connell."

Finally the attendance was done with and they were told to get out their textbooks, earning a lot of audible sighs of annoyance by the other students. Tim didn't really care, just started on his work, though he did feel his mind wandering and Darren texting him about how bored he was at the Manor every five minutes wasn't helping his attention level. Darren's texts were sometimes hard to decipher because d's, b's and p's were more often than not switched around as well as the m's and w's and he also didn't realize autocorrect was a thing so it messed up the words a lot. To be fair, Darren wasn't really as used to smartphones as other people his age were but he was learning.

Honestly Tim felt a little bad for Darren. He spent his entire life trapped in one place, only leaving when permitted and now he has to do virtually the same thing, only with _much_ better home conditions. He wondered if Darren could join a hybrid home-schooling program where he spent some days at Gotham Academy and some days at home. They could switch up the days he went to school and the days he stayed at the Manor so that the Court couldn't pick up on a certain pattern. It would allow him to meet other kids his own age and give him more time in the public. They couldn't rely on galas and fundraiser events to put him in the public's attention enough to keep the Court from trying to snatch him again.

Tim's mind wandered again and he thought to Darren's issue with the cold. He had said numerous times he disliked having to wear the cloak with his Renegade suit. It was made in a similar style to what the Talons wore and he hated having to rely on something they all used. _Maybe we can try to insulate the suit more, create a new one with a different type of material meshed with the kevlar_ he thought to himself, _I'll have to research that but it would really help Darren as Renegade._ There was a loud smack and everyone jumped. Tim jerked his head to the left to find Livia had smacked her hands on the sides of her desk and she was staring back right at Tim her eyes wide with surprise. She blinked and noticed everyone staring at her. Grinning sheepishly she relaxed and said,

"I thought I saw a bug," some people rolled their eyes, others chuckled but everyone then went back to their work, Tim looked at her a moment longer. He didn't quite believe her, it was winter there _weren't_ any bugs, but didn't really know what to make of her outburst. Tim shook his head and turned his attention back to his work. He'll figure everything out later…just a few more days of school and then it was winter break, just a few more days.

* * *

Livia glanced out her window again, a small frown on her face. He wasn't there. Not Renegade, he had not been around as of late and it was too early for him to do his passing by thing anyway. Livia meant the black cat that had been balancing and walking around on the railing of her mini balcony the past few nights. She had noticed the little guy a few days ago, peeping in through her window and she had wondered how it even got up there and how it got down. Of course she didn't try and touch it, wild cats weren't as friendly as others may think but this one seemed…different. The third time around though she opened her window and placed a small shallow bowl on the windowsill with milk in it. The cat immediately walked over to it and drank the contents of it. Livia sat on her bed watching him drink. She didn't know how she knew it was a him, she probably was assuming but it felt like it was a him to her. The black cat looked up at her with big green eyes that were luminous even in the light of her room,

"You're a beautifully handsome cat," she murmured to him gently, holding out a hand for him. Cautiously and silently the cat had sniffed at her fingers before nudging his head into her palm, "Too bad my dad won't let me keep you," she muttered, "He's allergic to cats so this will have to be our secret," the cat meowed as if in agreement and Livia had to chuckle,

"I'm going to name you Plagg, because I'm a badass magical being who needs a magical animal companion…," she frowned at the concept of magic brought up in that sentence. Livia needed to open the book, but it was difficult to find the time between school and her ballet lessons and the times she needed to stay with Petey while their father was at work. The newly dubbed Plagg clearly didn't understood that problem and purred contently. The cat had visited every night since but that night he never showed up.

Livia glanced back down at her homework, then back out the window before shutting her notebooks and folders and getting up to put her shoes and coat on. Perhaps she could find the cat. She was worried and while the cat wasn't exactly her's, she felt somewhat responsible for it,

"I'll only be out for an hour. That's it, _one hour_ ," she told herself. That said she silently left the apartment and hurried down to the lobby, setting off out into the cold night air of Gotham.

* * *

Darren leapt from building to building. Eyes and ears alert. Bruce had lifted his grounding briefly because they had gotten a tip that someone from Arkham may try to escape or that another villain not incarcerated would try and break someone out. The majority of the Bats were watching over Arkham, the others were maintaining normal patrol routes. Bruce had specifically told Darren not to engage, he was just their backup should they need more numbers to help with any breakout attempts. Most breakouts were messy and it took a while to round up whomever escaped before they created or enforced some chaotic scheme.

He was tempted to go off route and pass by Livia's apartment once again but decided against it, he didn't want to anger Bruce anymore than he already was and he also didn't want to add to anyone's stress levels. So he continued on his way to meet up with Tim and continue their perimeter sweep of The Narrows. Suddenly something caught Darren's ear. It sounded faint, it was high pitched and on the verge of being slightly painful. The noise was off to Darren's right and after a moments thought he veered off course to find its source. It sounded familiar whatever it was. Darren couldn't quite place it but it seemed important. Darren leapt across another rooftop, scampering to sit in a catlike crouch on a gargoyle statue to look out over the city. He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.

The noise raised in pitch and Darren hissed and clutched at his ears, now deciding he _must_ find what was making that noise and destroy it. With that he leapt off and started back the way he had initially come from, away from Tim. Perhaps he should send Tim a message and let him know what he was doing that way he wouldn't freak when he didn't show up. As he leapt once again to another building, reaching a hand to his comm, the noise rose drastically in pitch and Darren let out a cry as he landed badly rolling over himself. He managed to land upright, head spinning and glared out into the night. _What_ was that noise? Darren leapt to his feet and as he jumped something slammed into him _hard,_ sending him rolling across the next building and into the brick building encasing the staircase down from the roof. A hand grabbed him before he could rise and slammed him into the wall again, cracking the red brick underneath him. Darren glared up hatefully at the two Talons who stood over him.

Darren just then remembered what that noise was. They used those devices to lure rogue Talons to certain locations, raising the pitches until it was too unbearable to ignore and forcing whomever they were into chasing the device to turn it off or suffer which in turn allowed the Court to recapture them. How could he not see what they were doing, how could he have forgotten that trick,

"Hello little Talon," one hissed as the other grabbed Darren's face and reached to pull out the comm device from his ear then smash it, "Ready to die?" Darren's heart fell, so the Court did want to kill him,

"Not yet," the second assured him, though his voice promised it would be soon, "They still want you alive…for themselves. Do not resist," it was a warning…one Darren was going to ignore. Quick as a viper Darren slammed his fist into the Talon's elbow, breaking the arm and the Talon's hold on him. He then crouched low as he dropped to the ground and swiped the other Talon's feet out from under him. He slid under the still standing Talon's legs and sprinted back the way he came, the other two Talons quickly joining chase.

Darren sprinted over the rooftops of Gotham, zig-zagging to dodge projectiles and shuriken and other weapons. He didn't hold back with his Talon abilities, he ran as fast as he could possibly run, the world indecipherable around him and the wind a freezing cold force in his face, his cloak billowing out behind him because of it. Run, leap, run, dodge, flip, run, leap…he needed to find the others. Or perhaps he shouldn't they'd be in danger and Darren would willingly give himself to the Court if they did threaten anyone's life…he needed to hide, or he needed to return to the Manor…his bike wasn't that far away and…and—he really _hated_ that he needed to run. But he was outnumbered and nothing short of killing them would stop them. Darren considered facing them…he considered using his dual blades and killing them, it would be so easy but the others would be disappointed in him. Wouldn't they? Wouldn't they want him to exercise restraint?

He waited too long to decide and a thrown chain lassoed around his ankle, pulling him back down to the roof mid-jump. Darren landed hard on the concrete, it cracked beneath him, and he barely rolled out of the way of the sword the Talon lashed downwards. Darren kicked out at the Talon, pushing him back and jackknifed to his feet, twisting out of the other Talon's dagger. Darren stumbled back a step and ducked under the swipe of the Talon on the left, they seemed to be newly turned Talons perhaps someone from his age group but he didn't dare trying naming them…but some older Talons _did_ pick up modern speech patterns to blend in more with the populace should the need arise. The Talon on the right flicked out their claw-tipped gloves and slashed at Darren just as the other tried to stab Darren with their sword, he had no choice but to dodge the sword and take the slash with the Talon-like claws. They struck deep, tearing from his right shoulder to his pec. Darren cried out, surprised by the pain and stumbled back,

"Serum?" he questioned dumbly, surprised they'd do this, "I thought they wanted me alive!"

"You won't die…not quickly by this concentration,"

"Not helping," Darren growled, kicking the back of the other Talon's knee and without thinking attempted to try and rip their heart out. He'd never done it before but it was a signature move by a Talon. Of course the two Talons were trained to defend themselves from this kind of attack and they also had him outnumbered. As he tried to attack one, the other on the right pounced and tore at his leg with their dagger. Blood spattered the roof, a laceration from the top of his right thigh down to the inside of his leg now added to his list of poisoned injuries. Darren yelled out in pain and hobbled backwards, towards the edge of the roof.

His system was filled with Serum, they would bring him back to the Court to be healed and then…then they would freeze him, or torture him and force him into serving them or _all_ of that. They would win, he would be trapped forever and Darren couldn't allow that. He risked a glance behind him and only saw the drop down into the alleyway below. Perhaps if he landed carefully enough he could run from the Talons and disappear in a crowd of people, perhaps—

—The Talons surged forward to grab him, tired of waiting for their prey's next move and Darren reacted instinctively stepping back but he forgot about his injured leg and the flash of pain from moving it caused him to stumble back even more with the other leg to compensate and restore his balance, forcing his foot to hit the edge of the roof. He wavered there on the edge of the rooftop, arms windmilling to keep his balance and while he would normally be able to keep it, his injuries made that impossible. He fell backwards down three stories into the alleyway below.

Darren landed hard. He could hear the numerous cracks of his ribs and feel the wind being knocked out of him…he wasn't even sure if he'd be able to take air in again as everything swam out of focus when his head finally clunked against the concrete. Pain flooded _everything_ …he couldn't move from it, his nerves seared as if they were on fire. Everything was a wave of pain but Darren forced his head back up and sucked in air. He wheezed…and looked down at his body. His blood was still flowing from his injuries beforehand but it seemed only his ribs had suffered from the fall. He was lucky, very lucky…but clearly not lucky enough as the two Talons landed on either side of him. New weapons drawn as if waiting for him to try and attack him. One of them chuckled,

"This is the great heir of William Cobb? _Pathetic_ ,"

"They're teaching him not to kill…such a liability…makes one vulnerable. He didn't even _draw_ his _swords_. They make him _weak_ ,"

"I'm…," Darren coughed, "going to—," he had to stop himself, he couldn't make threats, not like this…and it hurt to talk,

"Going to what? Kill us? _Not likely,"_ the Talon snickered, "Grab him," he ordered the other, clearly the one in charge of this mission,

"Who's there?" a new voice called out. Both Talons drew weapons and stared intently into the darkness of the alleyway. Darren, with effort, tilted his head back and watched as green eyes lit the darkness, as if they were their own source of night vision and the Talons stepped back uncertainly. Darren blinked and suddenly the Talon's weapons flew from their hands and Darren tried to twist around to see how that was happening but had to stop, the pain making the world swim out of focus and when he could see clearly again the rest of their bandolier of daggers and throwing weapons was nowhere to be seen, their arsenal had vanished. Dirt colored particles littered the ground at their feet as if the weapons had rusted and crumbled into nothing. Darren didn't really understand what had just happened. The two Talons glanced at Darren before looking into the shadows again and turning to run,

"He's as good as dead anyways," he heard one of them growl and Darren had to laugh even though it hurt. They _were_ older Talons…just mouthier than usual because they were chasing a traitor and not a civilian target. The older Talons were a bit more superstitious as they had grown up in times when anything supernatural was feared…even though technically they themselves pretty much filled that category. Darren didn't pretend to understand it, he was just relieved and stunned that such a thing had saved his life.

His savior stepped into the light and Darren felt only utter shock and surprise to see none other than Livia Baudelaire.

She gasped at the sight of him and ran over to him. Darren caught off guard tried to speak but could only cough painfully. She looked at the blood pooling under him, her eyes searching for the source. It must been difficult to see because the blood from his chest wound had smeared all over his suit, which was already red and black as it was. Luckily she saw the torn fabric at his leg, Livia knelt next to him and swiftly pulled off her belt and looped it securely around his upper leg pulling it as tight as she possibly could,

"Tighter," Darren coached, "Tight— _gah!"_

"Sorry! You _did_ tell me to make it tighter," she muttered as she fastened it in place, "Sorry! Sorry!" she said again as he groaned in pain,

"What…what are…you…doing…ngh, here?"

"I…well…I was looking for my cat," Darren had to laugh, even if pain snaked intensely up his spine and the rest of his body was a searing mess of nerves in response,

"Fate…works in…mysterious ways," he was tired and almost lost consciousness when Livia pulled at his suit where the other wound was which woke him up once more, and caused a loud cry of pain,

"I need to put pressure on that. You're losing a lot of blood and I have nothing to use as stitches," Livia then took off her own coat, her green jacket, and bundled it up and placed it over the wound, putting most of her weight on it. That was it, that was all she could do medically. Darren's thoughts weren't too coherent at that point, his mind muddled by pain and fatigue…and poison,

"I…I didn't think they'd run off," she said finally into the near quiet…the sounds of his labored breathing breaking the true silence of the alleyway,

"They…they're…superstitious," Darren gasped, "Eyes…swords, _whoosh_ …thought it…was…magic," it was all he could say and he saw out of the corner of his eye Livia crack a small smile…like she understood some joke that he didn't,

"I have no idea what you mean," she replied. Though she cracked that one smile, Livia looked very pale and her hands pressed against his chest were shaking…she looked…worried, _concerned_ even.

Darren suddenly felt a flicker of panic. Why was she helping him? Didn't she want the Court to capture him? Didn't she want this…is that why she was here, to finish him off? But why wait? Why try to help him if that was her goal? Is she waiting for more Talons to come…but why would she make the ones already there run off if she needed them? He felt severe confusion and didn't know what to make of this situation. His head hurt, his chest burned and he felt horrible…he couldn't help himself, he needed to know,

"Why?…Why help me?"

"Why _wouldn't_ I?" Was her response. Her eyes, so worried and so green...so _un_ -Talon-like...in the darkened light, looked wounded. As if Darren thinking she wouldn't do anything for a complete stranger, a Talon no less though she didn't know that, was insulting. Perhaps his mistrust was misplaced afterall…or this was all a trick. He wasn't so sure anymore, he shifted slightly on the ground and tried to voice his opinion but choked…suddenly he couldn't breathe and it felt like something else in his ribs had snapped. He gaped like a fish,

"Can't…" he sucked air in with great difficulty, "…breathe!" Livia looked panicked but grabbed his left shoulder and pulled him onto his right side, so he was facing her where she knelt by him. The coat fell free and his blood flowed onto the ground from his chest once more. His left hand, the non-injured side, grabbed onto her arm instinctively. And Livia clamped her hand over the open wound on his chest once more. He could breathe better once again,

"What can I do? How can I get you help…I-I-I can call the h-hospital," She sounded so concerned and Darren felt an uncomfortable twist in his chest at the level of worry in her voice. She was actually _worried_ about him? How could an agent of the Court think in that way…how could they lie in that way, and seem to _mean_ what they felt.

A sensible side of him acknowledged that perhaps he had been wrong about that and felt guilty but he couldn't let go of the slim possibility this was all a ploy. He couldn't risk it all for some stranger, for some girl. Not when innocent lives were at stake, not when it meant that he'd be captured by the Court. Another side of him wondered why would she be worried about a strange vigilante who nearly killed a man in front of her. What did she know about him? She knew virtually nothing…yet she didn't even hesitate to come to his aid. He didn't know what he felt about that…but he was surprised and touched by her actions. Taking a shallow breath Darren ignored his warring thoughts and frantically answered her question,

"No!…no…no….hospit..al," Darren gasped, "Button…on…on—," he tried to remember where the distress beacon was but blanked for a moment or two before remembering, "belt! Second from center," he couldn't remember left or right and didn't trust himself to say the correct one at the time. Livia immediately—blushing for some reason—began feeling along his waist trying to find the button. It took a moment or two but she found it and Darren almost breathed a little easier knowing that someone was coming.

* * *

Livia stared at the bleeding, panting, and prone boy next to her. Her hand covered his chest wound so near his heart, which beat so slowly and unsteadily. He had been attacked by two men…and they had run away because of her and her magic. The belt wrapped around his leg kept the jagged leg wound from bleeding, the wound itself wasn't that severe but did need to be stitched up and probably prevented him from walking or running well from the men who attacked him. The wound on his chest worried her, it wouldn't stop bleeding…it was like it couldn't clot and her hand wasn't doing much to slow the blood pouring out from it but she didn't dare try and reach for her jacket again.

Renegade was pale…he'd always been pale she had noticed early on…but even more so now, from blood loss. He kept almost nodding off as well and in desperation to keep him awake Livia told him story after story about her and her family. Embarrassing ones, funny ones…things she _never_ told anyone. She needed to keep him awake and if laying herself bare through stories kept him with her, she'd gladly embarrass herself. He probably wouldn't remember any of it later anyways. Yet even as she spoke she worried every second he closed his eyes.

She was terrified…she _knew_ him…he had saved that couple…he had taken her home afterwards because he was worried for her safety. He saved countless others, every night that's what he tried to do and even if he messed up that one time he clearly learned from that mistake, and now there he was…dying in her arms. She knew she should be positive but things were not looking up. She had pressed the button on his belt and nothing had come of it…so maybe…maybe she should confess the secret she knew…the one she had discovered earlier that day…maybe he would understand,

"Renegade…I…," Livia whispered, his eyes were closing again, "No! Stay awake, please please please _stay awake!"_ He tried with effort to keep his eyes open…he was breathing in low shallow pants against the pain he must feel, his eyelids fluttering closed underneath his mask, Livia felt like crying. She moved her right arm, which was in his weak grasp, so that her hand now held his and she squeezed it, "Please stay awake," his eyes snapped open once again and he clutched at the hand that held his like it was a lifeline. A motorcycle headlight suddenly appeared at the mouth of the alleyway, someone leapt from it and started sprinted towards them,

"No! Stay back!" Livia yelled, holding her hand up as if to cast a spell…his chest wound forgotten in the need of some sort of defense…she knew none as of now, she only used abilities that did not require specific commands, and realized instantly what a liability that was in life. If she could have done something more with her power but couldn't because she never learned, she would never forgive herself,

"Renegade?" A voice called,

"Here! He's here!" she answered, lowering her hand as Red Robin ran into sight. He took in everything quickly, his expression never changing, then ran over to Renegade and crouched by his head,

"Renegade…who—,"

"—poison," Renegade groaned intently, dropping her hand as if it were suddenly on fire and gripping at Livia's elbow instead, as if trying to raise himself up. Red Robin flew into action, producing a syringe and was poised to inject it into his neck,

"No! What is that!" Livia shouted as she moved to knock the needle out of his hand. Red Robin fixed her with a hard look—a dark glare—and she froze,

"It's something that will _save_ his _life,"_ he growled as he pushed the needle in. Livia silently let her hand drop. Red Robin then started speaking rapidly into the communication device in his ear, hoisting Renegade up—ignoring the younger boy's cries of pain— as he did so. He then started over to his bike, "Thank you for your help," was all he said before murmuring gently to Renegade as he situated both of them on the bike then revving the engine, leaving Livia in the dust.

She knelt there…covered in dirt and blood staring at the puddle left behind. Her heart thundered in her chest and she looked over at the cat that was now meandering over to her from the shadows where it had sat for the duration of Livia attempting to treat the vigilante,

"Out of everywhere in the city…you're _here?_ Why? _How?"_ she questioned, then, "And how did _I_ know that you'd be here?" The cat gave her an almost human look, as if to say _'you already know the answer.'_ She rolled her eyes and stood, grimacing at the stains left from Renegade's blood. She wondered if she'd always end up covered in someone else's blood in this city…it seemed like it happened way too much for comfort so far. Livia then, with a sigh, after wiping her hands on her pants picked the cat up and almost in a daze started home. Her belt gone and her jacket left behind, ruined.

* * *

A/N: Hope you liked that chapter! Sooooo the Court of Owls tried to get Darren back and failed because Talons are scaredy cats when it comes to possible magic. Hmmm, I wonder if there's a reason for that ***cough, cough*** that you'll find out about later ***cough, cough.*** Hopefully the whole superstitious thing made some sense as that was how Darren understood their reactions. I figured, along with the possible other reason ***cough, cough*** since these Talons have been around for centuries they kept up some pretty serious superstitions...ya know, because old habits die hard...ha, Talon pun cuz they're already dead and stuff and...yeah, I'll stop with that.

Quick fun fact: three stores = ~ 33ft.

I am heading back to school soon(whhhhhy, _whhhhhhy_ ). Hopefully my writing schedule won't be screwed up by it. I'm pretty sure it won't but I'll give you a heads up if things go wanky...of course I'll really only continue this story if I know people were really liking it. And that means REVIEWS REVIEWS REVIEWS!

Also, if anyone can guess where the name Plagg came from WITHOUT using the internet I will be your new best friend...and I will also beg you not to judge me...it's an awesome show I swear(whoops, I gave a hint, my bad *shrugs*)

Remember to REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Next chapter on Thursday UNLESS I get some killer reviews!


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Oh my God...it took me so fucking long to get this chapter ready because I accidentally backed out of document manager so all the work I did didn't save and it was sooo freaking annoying! On a brighter note, the solar eclipse was AMAZING! I made a viewing box out of a cereal box, it was soooo cool to look at. Too bad I couldn't get the glasses so I could look right at it, oh well. I have 2024!

Soooooo also...dropping some reviews would be great...it would make me pretty happy...happy enough to post an _extra chapter ***hint, hint***_

Anyway, my ego aside, here's the next chapter. Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 17

As worried as Tim was about Renegade, who was flopping like a rag-doll at every turn he made on the motorcycle, he also wanted to punch him a good fifty times in the face. Why couldn't he just ever do what he was told? Every time someone says _do this_ , he did the exact _opposite_. That was one thing the Court didn't seem to beat out of him, and he was so much like Dick for it. They were both impulsive people, reckless and once they made up their mind there was nothing that would stop them or change them. Of course now it was more of a problem than an endearing attribute.

Darren was having trouble staying awake, the guy knew he had to but with the amount of blood he lost, and was still losing, that was a battle he'd lose before they made it to the Cave. Tim was sure he would pass out, and that was bad. Another issue was that they were on a fucking motorcycle, which was not equipped to deal with two passengers easily especially if one was about to pass out. Bruce and the others were still at Arkham with the Batmobile. Tim had already alerted Alfred of Darren's condition and he was sure Dick would be heading back in to the Cave. It left plenty of people to help if there was a breakout of any kind…but did not leave him a safe and reliable way to actually get to the Cave. Additionally no one was really out protecting Gotham right now, a problem they'd have to fix after treating Darren and dealing with Arkham Asylum. A fourth issue was made present as Tim made a turn, clutching regrettably onto Darren's injured shoulder, to keep him steady. He noted how there was still blood leaking from the wound and how Darren barely reacted to his hand clamping down on his bad arm,

"Darren, you _need_ to stay awake. We are almost at the Cave, just hold on a little longer," there was no grunt or reply, just labored disjointed breathing. Tim accelerated, going beyond any speed he should be at. A motorcycle accident wouldn't help anyone at this point but Tim needed to get Darren to the Cave. Clearly the amount of Serum in his system wasn't being affected by the dosage of the Cure he injected Darren with earlier. It was why his wounds were still bleeding, the Serum tended to prevent the appropriate amount of clotting for any wound as they discovered with Darren's back wounds after retrieving him from the Court. They hadn't healed especially quickly either due to the lack of clotting as well. They needed more of the Cure and fast, the poison—albeit a lesser amount—was still coursing through Darren's veins. He would _die_ if not treated properly soon. Tim let Darren's head flop back onto his shoulder as he gunned for the Cave.

* * *

Darren woke as he was shifted from one pair of arms to another. The world was indecipherable around him. Shining lights, the sounds of people talking and muttering with each other, the screeching of bats. He was in the Batcave…he didn't really remember the ride to the Cave…he just remembered being cold and in pain and the sound of the wind,

"He needs more of the Cure," a voice said, _Tim_ said…Tim was the one who had gotten him out of that alleyway. Darren's breathing hitched at that fact…there hadn't been enough of the Cure? He tried to move in the person's arms, but cried out in pain instead,

"Dare, stay still. You're ribs are busted up really bad right now," it was Nightwing who was carrying him,

"Lay him down here, we need to take an X-Ray," Alfred was there now and Dick, as carefully as possible, put him down,

"Cure first," Tim stated, "We can't help him if he bleeds out," A sharp sting of a needle in the crook of his uninjured arm. Being laid down didn't help his labored and pained breathing, but it did allow them to take an X-Ray of his chest. Darren flickered in and out of consciousness as people ran back and forth in and out of the room to grab tools and various other things,

"…blood transfusion?"

"…not possible…Talon…" Darren jerked unconsciously in surprise at that, but then realized they were talking about him not the two Talons that had attacked him,

"Darren, lie still. You'll make your ribs worse if you keep moving," Dick chided again, "We need to do _something_ about the blood loss," he said turning to face to Tim,

"He's not critical yet," Tim replied,

"We haven't stitched him up yet either, the wounds are still bleeding even with the extra dosage of the Cure. We need to at least try…O neg should work…universal donor?" Silence,

"Fine," so another set of tubes and needles were plugged into Darren's arms as Alfred finally peered over him and shined a light in his eyes,

"No color change yet,"

"That doesn't…happen…for…awhile," Darren croaked,

"Try to relax Darren. We need to get you into surgery, a piece of your ribs punctured one of your lungs and we need to correct it," Alfred moved to place a mask over his face and Darren didn't know why but the concept of having to be forcefully put to sleep set him off in a panic. He'd been sedated before but this was different, this was stronger stuff and no matter how rare those occurrences were there was the potential for it to be dangerous. It was also something he didn't have control over,

"No!" he cried, grabbing Alfred's arm with both hands and holding it away from his face,

"Darren! _Stop,"_ Dick hissed, grabbing one of Darren's hands and trying to pry it off Alfred's wrist,

"I…won't…sleep!" Darren growled angrily, trying to jerk his arm out of Dick's grasp. Ignoring the pain that seared through his rib cage at the movement. He wouldn't let them do that, not when there's a slim chance he might not ever wake up.

Of course part of him recognized he was being ridiculous, but the other part of him was insanely scared and panicked. He would _not_ die again, he refused to let that happen…even if the Electrum in his blood, once not hindered by the Serum, would wake him up again…even if he couldn't truly ever die unless his head was cut off and his heart was ripped out or he was given a lethal concentration of Serum there was still that possibility. Darren struggled, ignoring the pain and Dick's words in his ear explaining the procedure, how simple it was and how many times Alfred had done it on each of them. He yelled until his voice was hoarse and he was on the verge of unconsciousness once more and he still didn't let go,

"What the hell is going on in here?" A new voice asked and out of the corner of his eye Darren saw Jason step into the medbay with Tim by his side,

"We need to put Darren under to fix a piece of rib that punctured his lung…he went ballistic. I thought you could help so I called you back in from Arkham," Jason took in Dick and Alfred, trying to coax Darren to let go of Alfred's arm and shook his head before marching over to where Alfred stood over the bed and grabbed onto Darren's upper arm,

"Let go, you're _hurting_ him," Darren stopped his yelling and blinked at Jason,

"No I'm not—,"

"—let go _now_ ," he growled, anger in his blue-green eyes. While Jason did not very much care for Bruce or most of the others in the family…he had a soft spot for Alfred and Darren realized that he would not lie about what hurt the old butler. Darren let go of his wrist immediately, but shoved an elbow into Dick's chest—as gently enough as he could but firmly enough to get Dick to let go of his other arm—and tried to smack the mask out of Alfred's hand instead, but Jason was faster, as well as uninjured—and grabbed it before he could,

"No!" Darren yelled fearfully, glaring darkly at Jason before hacking out a bunch of painful coughs and wheezing a bit afterwards, "Stay _away_ from me!" he growled as clearly as he could. Jason held up his hands, the mask still in his grasp, as if to say that 'it is clearly not my plan to go near you'. Darren eyed the mask as if it were a viper waiting to strike…he would not go under, he would not be forced into a sleep where he had no sense of time. He would not go into Cold Storage…a different kind of Cold Storage, but a similar one nonetheless…

Jason crouched down by the bed, the mask still in his hand and looked Darren in the eye,

"I know," he began, "that you're afraid of being put under because you're worried you'll never wake up," Darren glanced around the room, wondering what the others thought of that,

"Don't look at them. This is between you and me, one dead guy to another," Darren coughed again, struggling even more to get air down to his lungs…the room was spinning slightly, "It will be terrifying waiting to fall asleep…I'm not going to lie…but you'll wake up. Alfred is the best and I've trusted him to make sure I woke up every time he had to put me under since I was murdered. You _will_ wake up," Darren just stared levelly at him and muttered,

 _"Cold Storage—"_

"—This _isn't_ the same," Jason promised, "You will hardly remember ever being asleep…you'll just close you're eyes and open them a few hours later. And don't you dare try and say that's what Cold Storage is, you've never experienced it…so trust me, trust Alfred and trust yourself because you _need_ to fix this. This is only going to get worse," Darren glared at him shaking his head but Jason ignored him, lunging at him instead and grabbing the back of his head pressing the mask over his mouth and nose. Darren thrashed, or tried to, Jason had pressed his knee into his already broken rib cage ensuring pain and the inability to move from that pain. It also forced him to take a deep breath to let out a cry of pain he couldn't contain, making him inhale the gas. Darren glared hatefully at Jason who only shrugged apologetically and let go of Darren's head, letting it fall back onto the pillows underneath him,

"Sorry kid. You'll wake up. _Trust me,"_ he then grabbed Darren's hand and placed it over his own heart, "this is still ticking Darren. You'll be okay. I promise," Darren knew Jason didn't make promises he couldn't keep, but his deception really ticked him off even as the steady beat of Jason's heart proved that the man was right. The room spun and everything began to darken, and Darren lost all thought as he spiraled into a forced sleep.

* * *

Darren woke slowly. The pain in his chest was minuscule compared to before and it didn't hurt as much when he breathed. He was somewhere comfy, probably a bed in the Manor…not the one he'd slept in before, he'd kind of destroyed that one. Everything sounded louder than usual too, the noise made him grimace and he felt something plastic at his cheeks. He twitched a hand to his face to pull whatever it was off only for someone to grab him,

"Don't. You need that still,",

"…Dick?" Darren breathed, he forced his eyes open and blinked at the sharp brightness of the room,

"The one and only," his cousin replied. He was sitting in the chair by the bed, a book on his knee which was propped up on the seat of the chair, "How do you feel?"

"Bitter…shitty…angry…where's Jason?" he wanted very much to _hurt_ that man,

"Long gone by now. Revenge is going to have to wait, though to be fair I was on the verge of sedating you myself,"

"Why didn't you?" Darren growled, side-eyeing him,

"You metabolize it too fast, you would have woken up mid-surgery and I knew that would be ten times worse than trying to use local anesthesia on you,"

"Is Alfred hurt?" Darren questioned…he felt bad for grabbing the old man like that,

"He's fine. A few bruises but that's nothing to him. You were scared, we understand that…you've never had surgery before, well at least not since becoming a Talon," silence for a moment or two,

"You aren't really _that_ mad at Jason are you? It was for your well-being,"

"He tricked me!" Darren growled, trying to sit up only to fall back with a groan as his head spun and his stitches pulled,

"Careful, you have a pretty bad concussion,"

"Must've been from hitting the concrete," Darren muttered, eyes closed, Dick was quiet for a moment or two before speaking softly again,

"…Jason's not the only one who's good at tricking us," he stated knowingly, nodding over at Darren. He looked over at Dick confused before looking down at himself. He was bare chested except for the bandages that wrapped around his torso and shoulder. To keep his ribs immobile so they'll heal correctly and covered the stitch work…his tattoo was plain as day. They must have seen it after pulling off his suit to fix him up,

"It wasn't much of a trick," Darren muttered, "as something I needed to do myself,"

"Tim knew about it… _Jason_ knew about it too,"

"Jason knew a guy and Tim butted his nose into my business," Darren stated, but could tell Dick was hurt by his deception and about including the others but not him, "It wasn't that I didn't want you to know…I just thought you wouldn't want me to do this, that you'd be disappointed in me," Dick shifted in his chair, looking thoughtful,

"I'm just upset you didn't want to do it with me there. Tim explained to me why you wanted it and it dawned on me that I didn't even know you were…" Dick paused, seemingly trying to find the right word to use, " _Struggling_ …because you don't talk to me,"

"I do talk to you!"

"Not about things like being worried you'll hurt someone, or kill someone…or even about your childhood with the Court. You didn't even tell me that you were so terrified of Cold Storage or of dying again that you would attack the very people trying to help you. You don't confide in me," Darren sighed, his head was hurting even more now,

"I don't tell you those things because I don't _want_ to talk about them. I don't _want_ to remember the Court, I don't _want_ to think of Cold Storage or dying…but it all still pops up sometimes and I can't do anything about it. It's always there in the back of my mind. And yes, it _frightens_ me, it makes me _anxious_ but that doesn't mean _talking_ about it will help,"

"That's what I'm here for. I'm here to _help_ you push through that, in any way possible. If I'm to be your guardian I need you to know that you can trust me with these problems and fears,"

"I'm used to not needing anyone," Darren confessed,

"That's the problem. You're fifteen years old, you're too young not to need anyone,"

"I'm sorry," Darren whispered, he was feeling tired again,

"I understand why you didn't tell me…just remember, I'm here for you…always," _Always but not forever_ Darren reminded himself as he fell back to sleep, _you'll eventually die and leave me alone…you all will._

The next time Darren woke, it was later in the day and Tim sat next to him instead of Dick,

"Was there even a breakout?" Darren asked, it was the first thing that came to mind,

"Nope,"

"Was it a trick?"

"Perhaps…it kept our numbers lower out in Gotham, making it easier for the Court to come looking for you,"

"I figured," Darren muttered, picking at the down comforter,

"Do you want something to drink? Your throat sounds sore," Tim stated, reaching over to grab a cup off the nightstand,

"Yeah. Thanks," Darren took a the cup and with Tim's help, sat up fully so he could drink from it, "I—uh—I wasn't screaming was I?"

"Before we put you under? _Yes_. While you were sleeping just now? No. I just thought you probably needed it,"

"They goaded me into veering off course," Darren said after a moment or two, Tim leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and folding his fingers together. Clearly this was surprising,

"How so?" Tim asked, "I didn't see or hear anything, just knew you weren't coming or communicating with us and that Alfred couldn't track you,"

"Ultra sonic emitters. Only Talons and dogs…and I guess some meta-humans…can hear them. They raise the pitches so you have to find the device and turn it off or the pain just continues and intensifies…they use them to corral rouge talons,"

"That sounds cruel,"

"That's the Court," Darren muttered, rolling the empty cup around in his hands,

"I'll tell Bruce about that. Clearly there's a sleeper agent for the Court of Owls within the Arkham staff. It was them who mentioned the 'tip,'" Silence reigned for a moment or two,

"Livia was there again," Tim said,

"Yeah…she was," Darren agreed absentmindedly, "She said she was looking for her cat, but she doesn't own a cat,"

"…how do you know that?"

"Whenever I've looked into her room there's no evidence of a cat, not even in the rest of the penthouse. No litter box, no cat toys or bed…not even those tower things they get for cats,"

"Darren…hold up, when you looked into her apartment building? You're looking through her window! _Seriously?"_

"What? She's possibly one of my enemies, she needed to be watched!"

"That is _stalking_ ,"

"Says the boy who went outside at night following and taking photos of Batman and Robin?"

"That was different!"

"How so? It's not like I'm taking pictures of her or watching her get dressed! I'm just passing by from time to time…it's nothing sinister,"

"She might not see it that way,"

"She saved my life tonight," Darren snapped, and Tim leaned back in his chair, clearly surprised,

"Livia put pressure on your wounds and tried to keep you awake…that hardly counts as saving your life, especially with the amount of Serum in your system,"

"They were there in that alleyway, the Talons. They were about to carry me away back to the Court and I could do nothing to stop them…but she made them run away,"

"A fifteen year old girl made century old Talons _run away?"_ Tim asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow,

"They thought she did magic…and I will be honest, I don't exactly remember what it is I saw but one moment they were holding their weapons ready to kill her the next they all disappeared…or crumbled into nothing or…something, I don't remember…but Talons especially _old_ Talons are superstitious and scared of anything relating to the supernatural. Years of Cold Storage tends on scramble their minds at first…they don't remember what time they're in and they remember the past and of course many feared the supernatural at those time periods. They ran off and then she tried to save my life,"

"How curious," Tim muttered, a frown on his face. He seemed to be deep in thought,

"I…I think I may have judged her a bit harshly," Darren started, "I don't think she is a spy," Tim nodded as if to say 'I told you so' but then frowned,

"You must admit though, her being there was still very convenient…and the Talons running away may have been planned beforehand to make you let your guard down around her. There's still not much support of her being a spy for the Court but there is just as little evidence showing she isn't," Darren sobered at that realization…he was too out of it to really remember what had been done in that alleyway to make the Talon's flee which meant anything could have been planned beforehand,

"But then why didn't they take me?"

"I can't say…perhaps there's a bigger plan afoot,"

"She held my hand," Darren stated, looking down at his open palm a puzzled expression on his face as he did so,

"Well…it is a common thing to do to provide comfort for someone who is in pain or dying," Tim stated, a small smile on his face,

"She helped me," Darren said, he was still in awe by that fact,

"Livia's quite a conundrum," Tim agreed, "But I wouldn't put your full trust in her just yet…not until I have more information about what happened last night and on Livia,"

"What makes you think I would?" Darren snapped,

"Nothing…just…nothing," Tim replied, shaking his head, "I just keep forgetting that as similar to Dick as you are, you are very different people when it comes to trust. I'll see if Alfred has any food for you—," he stood to get up,

"Tim…wait…could you do me a favor?" Tim sat back down, eyebrow raised as he explained his idea.

* * *

Livia stood pacing in her room, trying to figure out what she had done to the swords in the alleyway the night before. Clearly she had used telekinesis to pull the weapons out of their grasp…but the other thing she had done on the rest of their weapons, she had no idea what that was. It was some sort of destructive magic that she couldn't repeat or most likely control. She was pretty sure she looked like an idiot waving her hands around at various objects in the room, hoping they erupt into a deteriorated version of itself and crumple into nothing. She paused to glance over at the cat, curled up at the foot of the bed, his green eyes blinking sleepily at her. The cat hadn't left, even when she left the window open all night and silently froze half to death…so Livia figured Plagg was there to stay. The book was still closed in the center of her bed, no more close to being opened than before…and Livia knew she had to open the book and _soon_. She didn't know how she knew it, but she did. She was frightened of having to open it…but she desired to do it all the same. Everything she needed to know was in there, answers no one else could give her and a history she needed to understand.

Livia groaned and flopped onto her bed. On top of all this nonsense, she was worried. She glanced out her window, and even though it was still very early…the sun was just going down…she hoped to see Renegade on the rooftop across from her building. Livia needed to know he was alright…that he was alive. She glanced away and let out a sigh, rubbing at her throbbing head. The minds of all the buildings occupants a tidal wave of whispered, mumbled voices. She could read minds…most minds…she had discovered much to her despair. It wasn't a gift she had wanted…yet it crept up on her unexpectedly the day before like her powers in general. She couldn't read Renegade's mind or the two mysterious attackers that she confronted in the alleyway, which was odd. Most of the time she could ignore others thoughts…but sometimes it was a painful sensation, something like a migraine for hours. The ability came and went, with varying degrees at which she could ignore the voices. Livia hoped that opening the book would make everything more bearable.

A knock on the window caused her to jerk with surprise and she whirled around to open it. On the little balcony she had outside her window, she found a box with a sticky note on it. Cautiously she picked up the note…a smile stretching across her face as she read the boxy, messy and extremely boy-ish handwriting of a fifteen year old. It read:

 _I'm sorry about your coat and belt, I hope this makes up for it._  
 _I will be okay, thank you_  
 _~ Ren_

She knew that wasn't his name, she knew it stood for Renegade and she couldn't fight the relief she felt at knowing he was okay. Her grin still in place she pulled the box into the room with her and opened it. A green jacket, exactly like the one she had owned previously, and a belt sat inside it. They were both brand new…and Livia greatly appreciated the thought. The smile still broad on her face she shut the window and hugged the new jacket to her chest, touched that he considered her after all he had been through.

* * *

A/N: In explanation of why Darren reacted the way he did: While it is not common at all there is some risk in using anesthesia, but again that risk is really minimal...but of course Darren didn't want to die again so freaked out about that. On top of that surgery is actually a very nerve wrecking and scary thing to go through. As someone who has had many surgeries I can attest to that. I've cried every time I had to go in for surgery when I was little...like weeks and days before it you'd be like 'la di da, doo di doo' and then when the day comes be a nervous wreck. So I incorporated that into this chapter. I had Jason be the one to calm him down a bit and ultimate trick him because I felt he'd be the one to really understand that fear and worry, but also know when to trick someone for their well being.

As for the surgery itself. For a punctured lung surgery is not typically used to treat that, but I figured since it was a piece of Darren's ribs that did the puncturing they'd need to do surgery to fix the punctured lung and the rib splinters. I do not know how someone would heal from that, but since Darren's a Talon I thankfully don't have to worry or think about that XD

Also, I am probably back at school by the time you guys have read this(joy, I mean I happy to be back but I really am not looking forward to schoolwork again :| ) I will hopefully still keep to the same schedule as before. I am pretty far ahead chapter-wise. I'm at chapter 28...though I haven't written much since finishing that chapter. I'm not out of ideas I just keep thinking of what I'll do next with these characters and different plot lines I can make and routes I can take and how I'll do it and by thinking of the future it's kind of making me be like ehhhh, do I _really_ still have to write all this other stuff that needs to happen? And that's really what's slowing down my writing...but not by that much. I'll get it done don't worry, it's just me being silly.

Next chapter on Thursday and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 18

Darren healed over the course of a few days and while he was kept under careful watch by Alfred and mostly everyone in the Manor, they let him out alone one day in particular. They knew where he would be and Darren knew they had numerous GPS devices on every article of clothing he put on before heading out, but they let him go alone…because he requested that. He'd taken one of the motorcycles, it was faster than being driven and definitely faster than walking. Besides, he wanted to do this alone… _entirely_ alone. Darren had never done this before, but he figured it was right to buy flowers…he felt it was important to do such a thing, Dick did it so would he.

Parking the motorcycle around the corner Darren walked up to the gates leading to the Gotham Cemetary for the first time in ten years, an overwhelming sense of sadness causing him to look away from the towering gates. He instead looked at the red and white bouquet of flowers and almost immediately collided with someone else hurrying to enter the cemetery as well,

"Oh…sorry I didn't see you are—what are _you_ doing here?" Darren nearly growled, interrupting his own apology. Livia Baudelaire stumbled back a bit after bumping into him, what she'd been carrying—a book by the looks of it—falling into the soft snow on the ground. She looked stunned by his tone of voice, but Darren didn't really care. Why was she _here_ on today of all days? Annoyance overshadowed the melancholy he'd felt beforehand. Livia straightened up and gave him a slight glare back before reaching down to pick up the book she'd dropped. He noticed then that she wore the new green jacket he'd given Tim the money to buy and deliver to Livia a few days ago. Darren couldn't help but feel a bit glad she appreciated the gift,

"I'm…well…I'm here to visit my mother," she muttered sheepishly once she'd stood up straight again,

 _"What?"_ Darren questioned surprised, he'd forgotten her mother was dead too, "Did…was today…did she die today too?" Livia squinted at him as if confused before her eyes widened,

"Oh no, no, she didn't…I guess I just felt like it was a good idea to, uh, talk to her again. It just felt right to come today…you know?" she shrugged as if embarrassed,

"I don't think I do," Darren replied, sighing…this was the first time he had ever visited her, he'd never been allowed to. According to the Court, sentimental connections to those who were not long-lived such as Talons themselves were frowned upon,

"Well…I can just go. I really don't _need_ to be here and clearly you were expecting to be alone—,"

"—No!" Darren exclaimed, "I mean…I didn't mean to imply that you shouldn't be here…it's just…well…we keep…I, you know what, never mind," he said finally. He couldn't really just say they kept crossing paths way too much for comfort. He couldn't say that he thought she was someone meant to do him harm…that she was a spy for people who wanted him under their control. That would offend her even more than he probably already had. And tip anyone off if she was a spy for the Court,

"Okay…we'll…just go in together then?" she asked, as if wondering if that was okay. Darren bit his lip before nodding. Together they opened the gates and started down the rows of tombstones in silence. Darren wanted to start a conversation, to bring up something she had told him while in the alleyway a few nights ago to at least break the crushing silence between them…but she had told him those stories when he was Renegade, it would be too revealing. Still he felt he should say something, but nothing really came to mind.

Livia eventually branched off in a different direction leaving Darren to find the Crowne family plot by himself. They have a family mausoleum, but also a plot because his mother had requested to be buried outside, in the open air. Perhaps she was trying to distance herself from her family—who enabled the Court's activities in order to keep their family members out of their inner circle—by doing so or maybe she just didn't want to be stored away in a box within a box. Darren didn't know the answer, but he found it less sinister to visit a tombstone than a giant stone building harboring his dead ancestors.

He walked slowly, the snow crunching gently under his boots. He'd bundled up excessively because he wasn't in his Renegade suit and the cold would bother him more without it. Two coats, two pairs of socks, a long-sleeved shirt, a thick sweater, gloves, a hat and scarves…and he was still cold. But he trudged on nonetheless.

Once he found the tombstone he kind of just stared at it. He didn't really remember what it looked like from the funeral. He stood there quietly until he finally couldn't stand it anymore and collapsed to his knees before the marble and placed the flowers on the ground in front of it,

"H-hello mom," Darren whispered in the quiet of the cemetery as silent tears trickled down his cheeks, startling him. He hadn't realized he'd started to cry. He could see Livia kneeling in front of her own tombstone a long ways away. Her words were lost in the wind but he did not care to listen.

He just wept…after all these years he'd finally been able to come to the cemetary on the day she had been murdered to say how sorry he was. How he wished that things could have been different. How he wished that she had not been alone when she died. How he wished that day had never happened. And he was just speechless. All those things he wanted to say couldn't escape his mouth. He remained silent for a while,

"I-I miss you," he managed to croak out before silence overwhelmed him yet again,

"It wasn't your fault," a voice said from above him a few moments later. Darren didn't even flinch or look behind him,

"What are you doing here Malik. _Go away,"_ he was not in the mood. The man didn't know what he was talking about. There was a crunch of boots on snow and suddenly Malik was standing over his shoulder. He wore his Talon armor and cloak, but did not wear the mask so his dark hair and eyes were visible, though his hood made his features indecipherable to anyone but a Talon,

"I too thought I was at fault for the deaths of those I loved," he said, "But that was decades ago…centuries for my family, mere decades for the woman I once thought to love as well as for the man I once loved years after her. It fades after a while…the hurt, the pain of it,"

"Not helping," Darren growled, "I don't _want_ to forget," he traced his mother's name etched into the marble, like he had with her signature when he was little,

"What do you even remember of her death?" Malik questioned,

"I remember enough," Darren growled, "I remembered that even though I was just five years old I wanted to go to a sleepover I had been invited to. I thought I was brave enough to stay away from home for one stupid night,"

"But?" Malik coached,

"You _know_ what happened. Why are you doing this?"

"Because you need to see that you could not have known what would happen. You were a _child,"_

"There was a snow storm," Darren continued, unable to stop himself, "A bad one…and I got _scared_. So I had my friend's mom call home and ask them to come and get me. And instead of insisting to wait till tomorrow because the roads were bad…my mom had our driver take her down into the city to get me,"

"Only it wasn't your usual driver," Darren nodded,

"It was William," Darren remembered peering out into the snow, watching it swirl dangerously as he waited for his mom to come and get him. Embarrassed to have been a hassle and scared like a little baby, but his friend's mother—he couldn't remember their faces or their names—had been kind. She understood his distress and assured him his mother would be there soon. The car finally pulled up but it wasn't his mother who got out of the car and started to where Darren stood at the top of the steps ready to go, it was the driver…but Darren didn't recognize him. He should have known something was wrong right then and there. He had been scared and it should be his mother coming out to get him, to comfort him…but he foolishly stood there blinking owlishly at the man approaching.

Darren had then heard pounding and glanced behind the man as he drew nearer and saw his mother frantically pounding on the window of the car, trying to open the door. She caught his eye and mouthed _'run'_ at him. Darren hesitated for a second until he could see the dark sinister eyes of the fake driver before he turned and ran back into the house, locking the door. He ran down the halls, hysterically shouting for help. Darren knew now that William could have easily ripped the door off the hinges, but that would leave too much evidence of a struggle. It needed to look like an accident, so William had cut his losses and turned back to the car.

Darren scrambled to the windows, pointing and shouting at the car as his friend's mom called the police, but William was already at the wheel. He drove the car straight into oncoming traffic. Darren watching from the window as the car accelerated at an alarming rate through the nearest intersection, had then run to the door and out into the snow, screaming as the car crashed. It flew through the air, rolling over itself and finally landing in a crumpled mess on the sidewalk a few feet away from other civilians watching in horror.

He'd collapsed to his knees, exactly like he had a few moments ago in front of the tombstone, in the snow. Sobbing, inconsolably… _I was scared, I asked her to come…it's my fault, my fault, my fault_ echoed harshly over and over again in his five year old head. Darren watched horrified as William climbed out of the wreckage completely alive and pointed a finger at him and even from a distance he could see what he mouthed at him, _'soon boy.'_

Darren squeezed his eyes closed, nails biting into the skin of his palms as his hands curled into fists. That was all Darren was willing to let himself remember. He wouldn't think of how they pulled his mother's broken body from the wreckage…or how his friend's whole family disappeared overnight so any claim of his that there was a strange man driving their car was never backed up or considered as fact. The driver was drunk and drove the wrong way…that was all, that's what happened. _No_ Darren thought darkly, _that's what the Court wanted them to think, and they ate it up._ He himself had allowed their plans to happen perfectly,

"You couldn't have known," Malik said again, forcing Darren's thoughts yet again back to the present,

"I could have been braver," Darren muttered harshly glancing away from the marble before him and catching sight of Livia once again, "Do you know of anyone by the name Livia Baudelaire?" he asked Malik,

"Who?"

"Her," Darren stated, jerking his head in her direction, he had a Talon he trusted with him it best be time he confirmed her relation to the Court,

"I have never seen that girl before in my life, let alone the Nest," Malik stated with his usual level of contempt, "Why do you ask?"

"Nothing," Darren breathed. Shock and surprise…and…and utter _relief_ flooding through him. He didn't have to fear her, he didn't have to hate her and be suspicious of her. He was _wrong_. He had been so _terribly_ and _wonderfully wrong_ about her. She knew nothing of the Court, of Talons or even of him…he would have to tell Tim that he was wrong. He was _wrong_. He'd never been so relieved about being wrong before in his entire life. Darren wouldn't have to do anything he'd later regret. There was no need to be suspicious, no need to watch what he said, no need to contemplate physical harm…no need to wonder and worry about who she was,

"Is that a smile I see?" Malik questioned, "I do not know her…though it appears that you do,"

"It's nothing," Darren insisted, the smile falling as soon as it appeared, "I want to be alone,"

"Very well…but remember, this is _not_ your fault. You won't despair forever," Darren ignored the man as he snuck away. He placed a hand on the tombstone,

"I love you mom. I miss you everyday…and…and I'm going to come and visit more often than this, I owe you that and I can now—no one can stop me anymore. I'll get to see you whenever I want," and though he felt a bit foolish for doing so, he pressed a light kiss to the pale marble and then sat back on his heels.

A sudden scream echoed from across the cemetery, pulling Darren to his feet before he fully processed it. He was running before he even realized it had come from Livia.

* * *

Livia meandered slowly to where her father had managed to move her mother's body to. They'd managed to get their family a plot here in the Gotham Cemetary when they moved there, and though her father went there once every other week, this was the first time she'd come to the graves. She didn't want to do this. But the book…and the recent events she'd been involved in…had forced her hands. _No more being the mouse_ she had promised herself. She needed to learn, she needed answers and she was lying to herself if she kept thinking she'd get them without the book's help. Which meant she needed her mother's necklace, the necklace she had been buried with.

Never in her entire life had grave-robbing ever come to mind. She never considered ever desiring to do it, but she must. It was the only way to get the necklace and therefore the only way she could open the book. Though to be honest, was it really grave-robbing if it was your mother's grave? Livia didn't know the answer, and didn't really care to learn the answer.

Plagg had disappeared again that morning, refusing to come along it seemed, so Livia was on her own…well not completely on her own. Livia glanced behind her, eyes scanning the headstones until she found her dark blond haired companion for the afternoon in the empty cemetery kneeling, head bowed in front of another grave. He hadn't seemed happy to see her there when she'd arrived and she didn't blame him. While he clearly loved his mother…Livia held no feelings of sympathy for her mother's untimely demise.

Livia glared at the tombstone next to her mother's. Her father kept it only as courtesy to her dearly departed mother and their family. Livia didn't understand why he had done it. He owed her— _them_ —no favors,

"This is your fault," she hissed at the gray marble, the wind whipping around sharply in response to her anger, "Though you're equally to blame as well… _mother_ ," she said bitterly to the tombstone in front of her. Livia never usually said that word out loud…she'd never called the woman mother before. To be honest, she never really talked about her at all.

With a sigh she just rolled her shoulders back a few times and then placed her hands on the ground, ignoring the ice cold numbness of it even though she scraped away as much snow as possible. Closing her eyes she thought of the necklace trapped beneath the earth, approaching the issue similarly to that of requiring a book out of reach or a cup of water on the nightstand she was too lazy to get up for. Telekinesis was one of the easier abilities to replicate, it was like using a well-toned muscle within herself.

The wind picked up and the ground beneath her hands shook as she pulled the necklace through the frozen ground with only her mind and her power, a coiled nexus of energy that lived within her. Livia gritted her teeth, she hoped the cold wouldn't interfere with summoning the necklace up but she couldn't really worry about that. She had already started and she'd see it through. Finally the dirt pulled away to reveal the fine pewter and stainless steel necklace…wrapped around the _skeletal hand and wrist_ of her mother! Livia scrambled back away from the remains, a scream slipping out as she did so…very alarmed by what was pulled from six feet under.

Forcing herself forward she gripped the bones in her gloved hand and untangled the necklace from it as quickly as possible disgusted by having to touch the bones of her own mother and letting the necklace pool into her palm. Crunching of snow sounded and she whirled around, closing her hand around the necklace and tucking it behind her back. Darren stood before her, eyes scanning the area with the intensity of a hawk looking for prey, as if looking for an attacker,

"I heard you scream…is everything okay?" he asked, his light blue-grey eyes seemed to bore into her own. She didn't know how he could have possibly heard her or get to her as fast as he did, she was very far away from him, almost on the complete other side of the cemetery. Livia looked away and had to smile,

"I'm fine. It's…just a bit spooky here that's all," she looked back to him but his attention was fixed on something by her feet. She glanced down, her eyes widening in surprise,

"Is that a hand bone?" Darren questioned. Livia frantically kicked it behind her, back into the small hole from whence it came,

"It's nothing…don't ask," she monotoned,

"Okay…sorry…I was just worried,"

"You don't need to worry. I can take care of myself, I'm fine," a pause between the two of them before he spoke again,

"I—I want to apologize for earlier," he stated, "I didn't mean to imply you were unwelcome here,"

"It's fine, you're—," he cut her off,

"—And I'm sorry if I was ever rude or cruel to you before…or dismissive," Livia blinked at him surprised by the sudden apologies,

"Perhaps you were cautious yes, but rude, cruel or dismissive? You were never those things Darren," she stated with a small smile,

"Are you just saying that to be nice?" Darren questioned, not seeming to sense her sincerity or perhaps, actually, not _recognizing_ it,

"I _know_ you Darren Crowne, and you are not a cruel person…not to those who don't deserve it," he seemed taken aback by that statement and shrunk back awkwardly not sure how to take the remark,

"Do you…uh…visit your mother often?" Livia couldn't help but frown at that question,

"No. First time in a long while," was all she said,

"Me too," he replied, surprising her. He clearly mourned his mother deeply, Livia thought he'd visit more often than not, "Though clearly for a different reason than you," so even he had secrets he'd rather not share,

"If you don't mind me asking…why not?" Livia was quiet for a time and he clearly took her silence for offense and not her contemplating how to answer, "I'm sorry I ever asked, I—I'll just go,"

"No! _Wait_ …I'm not angry. You're just curious…I was thinking of how to answer…it's rather complicated," Livia replied, reaching out to grab him by the arm but he had turned back around again before she could, "It's because she left us…she went on that plane with someone else, with a bad person,"

"Who?" Darren asked, eyes wide with intrigue,

"My...uh...a family member who had gotten in trouble with some very powerful people…a _criminal_. My mother got caught up in the crossfire and…well…ended up dead,"

"So the plane crash wasn't an accident?"

"Was the car crash an accident?" Livia shot back, Darren winced and shook his head,

"No," he whispered,

"And no one even questioned it," she stated, "for both of us,"

"And you despise her because she left…even if it was probably to protect you?" Livia bit her lip, she had never considered her mother had left them to protect her and her father,

"Well…what I know is the story I have been told, I'll never know the rest of it," Livia stated, "At least not yet,"

"Well…I hope you find the answers you're looking for," Darren said, then, "I understand though, truly I do…my father is a criminal as well. It's been hard to completely trust him," Livia could tell he wasn't lying…she could see it, see that look in his eye that she sometimes recognized in her own. He too knew someone he could never fully trust, though the people she viewed in a similar respect were dead. She never had to look them in the eye and wonder if what they said was the truth or just another manipulation,

"And once I do get my answers…you'll be the first to know," she found herself saying, and she meant that. Darren grinned at that,

"I'm honored to be viewed as such a confidant, my lady," he said, giving her a bow which caused his hat to fall off. Livia let out a chuckle as he reached down to pick it up and shake the snow off it. She'd never seen this side of him…this lighter side hidden within himself. And she liked what she saw, perhaps she'll know more than just two sides of this very strange and very mysterious boy. Livia left that cemetery with a new friend…and she hoped that feeling was mutual.

* * *

A/N: Hoped you liked this chapter! I am settling back into the routine of school...hopefully I'll get settled into it quickly. I am including a photo link to what the necklace looks like should you want to see it. You know the drill for that. I actually own the necklace, it's one of my favorites!

As for the story of Darren's mother, perhaps later on...in a third installment including all these characters in one-shots and such...you'll find out how what happened actually happened in real time, not from Darren's five year-old perspective. Would you like that? I hope so. Let me know if you would!

Any questions, concerns or comments PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW OR PM MOI and I will try to answer anything you guys ask or are wondering about(as long as it does not reveal too much)

Please do try and review. It really does help me out as a writer to know what my readers are thinking.

Link to necklace pic: img1^etsystatic^com/119/0/10554833/il_570xN^1009742517_rpq6^jpg

^ = .

be sure to include h.t.t.p.s:/./ before the rest of the link(without the periods of course :) )

Next chapter on Thursday!


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Yayyy I'm so happy to have FINALLY reached this chapter. I am extremely proud of these next few chapters(I'm still posting once per week UNLESSSSSSS I get some reeeevvvviiieeewwws) and I can't wait for you guys to read them! Things are happening and things are getting interesting and I KNOW I'm being super pushy about reviews but you are killing me with the lack of them. I like knowing what others think of my work so not knowing is basically killing me inside a little bit each day...but no big deal...I'm fine. I can handle this.

P.S - I spelled reviews wrong multiple times just writing this little blurb :|

Anyhow(is that the right word to use?)...here's the next chapter

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 19

Tim tapped his foot impatiently at his desk. It was finally the last day before break. Finally the last day till freedom and they only had twenty minutes left of last period. This was it, and he'd be free for two weeks. It was a wonderful feeling, the anticipation of winter break. _I only have twenty minutes, that's two ten minute chunks of time which is really four five minute chunks_ he thought to himself, trying in vein to somehow make the timing seem less than it was. He once again wished he was still in middle school—not really, middle school is the worst—they had a half day and left at eleven that day. The elementary kids even earlier. It wasn't fair but beggars can't be choosers.

Time ticked by slowly, and kids attentions were wandering much like Tim's own. There was fresh snow on the ground outside from last night and while it still hadn't been completely cleared away it wasn't enough for a snow-day. Suddenly the loudspeaker crackled on, causing the teacher to stop explaining the current math problem on the board. They all listened in silence wondering what the principal or main office had to say to the high schoolers. There was nothing, no words came…but it was clear the speaker was on. Tim frowned, something wasn't right. There was the sound of crashing and a panicked scream before the connection cut out. Everyone stayed in their seats, looking at one another stunned,

"What was that?" one girl, Sasha Tim thought her name was, asked,

"I—I don't know," the teacher replied, eyes wide and the problem on smart board forgotten. Suddenly the lights cut out, several people screamed. Tim tensed, wondering if he should risk it all and try to creep away to change into his Red Robin costume…or try to contact someone outside this school,

"There's no service!" a kid hissed, waving his phone around like that would help. Tim gritted his teeth before looking over at the teacher,

"Lock the doors!" he growled, the teacher looked at him stunned before another girl, coincidentally closest to the door screamed,

"Look!" she pointed at the door and Tim could feel the adrenaline rush through him as he stared into the masked eyes of a Talon. He sat frozen where he was…wondering why a Talon was at the school. They knew Darren didn't go to Gotham Academy, they knew the Bats were smarter than that. And that left only one explanation, they were there for Tim…or Stephanie—Tim grimaced at that, he needed to find her. She wouldn't be on this floor at the moment, as far as he knew that was.

He and the Talon seemed to lock eyes, their glares sharp enough to cut steel. The Talon only seemed to be daring Tim to try and move, to try and stop him which was odd. Tim knew better than to try. He was a civilian and he could not endanger the other kids around him in a stupid act of bravery that would surely get him killed. Everyone around them looked at the assassin with fear in their eyes, unable to talk or move. They remembered the Night of Owls…they knew what Talons could do.

The Talon broke their staring contest first and glanced around the room, as if looking for someone. Tim also found that odd…if they weren't here for him, who were they here for? Who was missing from this room? Tim started counting heads and naming each of the kids…he had memorized the list of kids in each of his classes from the very first week of school for this very reason.

The Talon did one last sweep before letting out a grunt and turning away from the room. Running off down the hallway. Tim leapt to his feet and slammed the door shut behind the assassin, locking it firmly. Silence echoed harshly in the room before it was broken by a peppering of every possible voice in the room,

"—what's going on?"

"—Why is that _thing_ here?"

"—Where did it come from?"

"—What is it doing?"

"—We're going to die, _WE ARE GOING TO DIE!"_

"—My father will hear about this! We're suing this school!" Finally the teacher couldn't take it anymore,

 _"ENOUGH!"_ she shouted, her voice cracking slightly betraying her own fear and worry at the situation at hand, "We need to stay calm and stay put…the police no doubt know what is happening and are coming as we speak,"

"What good will that do?!"

"That was a Talon… _thing!"_ Tim rolled his eyes as he edged backwards, towards the backdoor which he still had yet to lock. He had figured out who wasn't in their room. Ducking silently through the door, locking it from the outside as he did so, he started off into the darkened hallway. Livia hadn't been in the room, she'd been in the bathroom and if they weren't here for Tim or Stephanie…then somehow and for some reason they were there for her.

Tim pulled out a communication device and shoved it in his ear. They may have cut the power and cell phone service in the area surrounding the school, but there were no EMPs activated in the area, the comms—which operated on radio frequencies—would work,

"Stephanie?" he whispered, a hand to his ear as he peered around the corner,

"Tim?" she replied, surprised, "What is going on? The lights are out everywhere and there's no service,"

"Where are you?" he asked,

"Bathroom,"

"Are you _serious?"_ he groaned, clucking his head against the wall he leaned against, "That is the single worst place to be in the event of a lockdown," he hissed back, worry snaking up his spine,

"You think I don't _know_ that? So sorry I had to pee right when the school was attacked! And just so you know mister smarty pants it's just as bad to wander the halls…so I stayed here. Timothy, what is going _on?"_

"Talons are in the school,"

 _"What?_ Where are you?"

"In the hallways—,"

"— _Tim!_ I literally just said—"

"—looking for you!" she let out a frustrated huff,

"They wouldn't be after me," she hissed,

"Well they aren't after me either, they're after Livia,"

"—What?"

"Yeah, I know it makes no sense but that's what I've deduced at least,"

"Well…there's a slight problem,"

"What?"

"She's in the bathroom with me," Tim bit back another groan and just let out an exasperated sigh instead,

"Where are you two?"

"Third floor bathroom…near the middle school building," the two schools were connected on the third floor. No one knew why or really how it was managed but that was what happened, no one questioned it. Why Livia had gone all the way there instead of the bathroom around the corner was beyond Tim…but he also knew it was because she'd had enough of class and was taking the longest way to a bathroom and back in the hopes of class ending before she returned. He understood that, he'd done that himself plenty of times. Tim left the safety of his corner and darted towards the nearest staircase,

"I'm coming to you guys and then we are getting _out_ of this building…authorities are probably already on their way, the principal managed to get some signal out before she was killed. They'll be evacuating groups of kids out bit by bit. The Talons clearly have orders not to kill innocents in this scenario because many of the Owls' kids go to this school," he muttered into his comms as he sprinted up the stairs. Though to be honest they at least knew Tim was not related to any of the Owls—Stephanie might still be in the clear for that—it was the rest of the student body that they couldn't touch…but Tim opted to not think about that.

Once at the door he was silent and glanced through the glass window before opening it and padding silently towards the hallway that connected the two buildings and where the bathroom there was.

He knew internally that the Talons already knew where he was as well as Livia and Stephanie. They could hear their heartbeats and their conversation probably, but that couldn't be helped. They were waiting for them to run, they knew three teenagers couldn't outrun them…but they _could_ try to _outmaneuver_ them. Tim pulled out his utility belt—never left home without it—and clipped it around his waist, pulling his uniform shirt over it. This was only just in case they needed to use any gadgets to keep themselves out of the Talon's clutches. They'd keep Livia ahead of them so she wouldn't see, it was the best they could do to preserve their identities.

The Court already knew who they were, they couldn't reveal that truth because who would believe them…what evidence could they bring? They may be the most influential people in Gotham, but not enough to convince an entire city that Bruce Wayne was Batman.

Tim crept towards the bathroom and pushed the door open…totally ignoring the fact that it was the girls room, that wasn't really an issue at this point in time. He stepped inside the pitch black room and—was slammed in the face by some sort of heavy, hard plastic rod,

"OW! What the fuck… _Ow!"_ Tim yelled, clutching his nose…which surprisingly wasn't bleeding just hurt a lot,

"Oh my God…sorry…I thought you were one of the bad guys!" a voice, Livia's by Tim's guess, cried out. There was a muttered curse and the sound of tapping on a smart phone before the flashlight button was pressed and Tim could see Livia and Stephanie hunkered down by the end of the little hallway some bathrooms had,

"What the hell did you hit me with," Tim questioned, pinching at his nose to feel the bruise,

"A muscle roller," Livia stated simply,

"And you just carry those around for fun?"

"I have ballet today," she replied haughtily,

"How could you even _see_ where I was? The door had closed,"

"…magic?" she stated shrugging. Tim rolled his eyes,

"We don't have time for this, we need to go now!" Stephanie nodded in agreement, putting her phone away,

"We need to run for it. There's no doubt they know where we are already,"

"Then let's not stand here, let's go!" Livia stated, leaping up and running out the door. Tim sprinted after her and managed to grab her wrist and pull her down an adjacent hallway just as a sword slashed right where her head had been,

"Less walking into swords more thinking and running!" Tim growled as they pounded down the hallway and into the middle school building. Stephanie was right next to him while he pulled Livia after them. She was keeping up, barely, but she was doing well enough on her own,

"Why are they after us!" She yelled over the sound of their pounding feet, "And I don't need you holding my hand!" she snapped at Tim. He decided to ignore her and continued pulling her along after him,

"They're not after us they're after you!" Stephanie stated,

"What! _Why?"_

"Yeah… _why?"_ Stephanie asked looking over at Tim. He shook his head,

"No time to really explain!" he called back to them. He actually didn't really know why himself, but didn't say that as he took another turn only to skid to a stop at seeing the Talon already at the end of it. The other Talon was behind them and they had no time to turn back the way they came. With a growl he forced open the first door he could find and pulled both girls in after him. He then locked the door and backed away from it with Stephanie and Livia on either side of him.

They were in a kitchen, used for the family and consumer science classes every middle schooler had to take at GA. They backed up against the stove, the counters and fridge as the door was kicked open and the Talon stepped inside. Tim had no idea where the other Talon went…he didn't really care at the moment. He looked around, trying to find a way out. There were windows…but they'd have to break them first…then he saw the backdoor. Not every room had one, but apparently this one did,

"Guys…the door," Tim muttered, but Stephanie and Livia only stared at the Talon before them as he…or she…pulled out their sword,

"Livia Baudelaire…the Court of Owls has sentenced you to—," it cut itself off as Livia stepped forward, a glare on her face…Tim wanted to pull her back but felt she would only push him off her if he tried,

 _"No_ …no one, not even some weird cultish Court, will decide when I die," she hissed and she flung her arms out in front of her. Drawers suddenly pulled themselves opened…Tim, Stephanie and the Talon looked on in utter shock as she then waved her hands upwards and dozens of pieces of cutlery rose with the motion, she then swiped her hands towards the Talon and the pieces flew at him. Everything, even the spoons, forcefully impaling him…or her, Tim didn't know which…like a pin cushion,

"Where's the gas line?" Livia asked Tim as she twisted a hand towards the doorknob of the back door. It clicked opened. Tim, still stunned, pointed to the right. She slammed her other hand onto the tiled floor and a rusted, deadly looking destructive sheen spread across it up to the gas-line destroying part of it. Tim got the gist of what she was doing and grabbed Stephanie by the arm and hauled her out the door, Livia on their heels. With on last sweep of her hand the door closed and with a muttered word, Tim could not hear what she hissed, the whole room exploded behind them as they sprinted down the other hallway. Tim didn't know what the hell had just happened, but nonetheless, it gave them time to survive.

* * *

A/N: And there it is! Hope you liked it! It may be shorter than the past few chapters but some interesting developments have occurred in this chapter. I also just had so much fun writing this chapter, and the two others that follows it. I worked really hard on these chapters and all the ones before it so I would REALLY appreciate your opinion on this story, these chapters, certain moments, anything really! I just really want to know _your_ TRUE opinions! Don't hold back, please!

Also, I've just always been under the impression that when Stephanie's super pissed at or frustrated with Tim she just calls him Timothy all the time to annoy him...I don't know if that's actually canon but it's what I picture her doing.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Next chapter on Thursday unless I get some awesome reviews!


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 20

Darren was messing around on some of the equipment down in the Cave when an alarm sounded. Cautiously he jumped off of the rings and padded over to the giant screen of the Batcomputer. A piece of technology he was told never to touch, not because he wasn't trusted with it but because he did not know how to operate it very well. In this case he didn't have a choice and he scanned the mess of buttons and knobs before sighing and picking one at random to push. He supposed he could have called Damian down from upstairs but the kid had been in a pissy mood all day for some reason. Alfred was at the grocery store and Bruce was in Metropolis for some sort of business event held by Lex Luthor, much to everyone's annoyance. Bruce couldn't get out of it so he was forced to go.

After pressing the button, Darren stepped back with a worried frown on his face and stared apprehensively at the large screen as it flickered for a few moments before showing a security feed from what appeared to be Gotham Academy. What Darren saw enraged him. Talons were in Gotham Academy. The two appeared to be systematically searching every high school classroom in search for someone. Darren toggled a knob to change the feed, seeing police authorities working to sneak dozens of kids out of the school one classroom at a time. The Talons didn't appear to be hurting anyone, there were only two…which implied this wasn't an important mission. He didn't understand why they were there…were they after Tim? Or Stephanie? They knew they couldn't do anything to anyone in the Wayne family—or to someone as close to the family as Stephanie was— it would look bad for the Powers. Darren switched to another camera and jerked backwards away from the keyboard in utter surprise and shock.

They wouldn't be at Gotham Academy for no reason at all and if it wasn't to kidnap or kill Tim and Stephanie…then it had to be for someone else. That someone being _Livia_. An indescribable feeling seared through him which he could only understand as uncontrollable rage and worry…as well as anger towards himself. There was only one person he had divulged Livia's name to and it was Malik. The Talon betrayed him and now Livia was in danger because of Darren's reckless actions to get the truth. He didn't know if they wanted to kill her or kidnap her to use against him in some way but that didn't matter at the moment.

Darren glanced back around the Cave…wondering what he could do. He was not allowed out as Renegade, Bruce had made that abundantly clear. Bruce was out of town, Alfred at the store, Darren didn't want Damian anywhere near the Talons because everyone would kill him if Damian got himself killed facing the Talons at the school by himself, Dick was in another city as well helping the Titans, Dick would kill Darren if he even offered Barbara the chance to save everyone at the school…there was only one thing he could do, and he would do it whether he got in trouble or not. This was his mess, this was his fault and he would ensure that it was fixed. Turning Darren sprinted to the glass case that held his suit. No one was going to die that day…no one except the Talons that dared put his friends in danger.

* * *

Darren arrived to where he'd last seen the three running in the hallways of the school just as an explosion sounded. He didn't know what caused that but it meant nothing good. Turning, he sprinted in the direction of the smoke and nearly collided with Livia. He grabbed her shoulders to keep her from completely plowing into him,

"Ren—Renegade," she gasped, out of breath and surprised,

"You're okay!" Darren exclaimed,

"Of course I am," Livia replied, "…I blew up the kitchen," she added proudly as Tim and Stephanie appeared,

"Renegade," Tim said clearly relieved, "Please tell me you brought help," Darren glared at Tim before replying,

"Sadly it's just me,"

"Are you kidding, we're fine. I nuked those crazies," Livia stated, Darren winced at that before sighing,

"Hate to break it to you, he's not dead," Livia stared at him,

"And there's still another one somewhere around here," Tim added,

"That's impossible…the kitchen exploded and—oh my God it did nothing to slow it down!" she gasped, pointing back towards the smoke as a rapidly healing Talon appeared limping towards them,

"Yeah, 'it'," Darren muttered before letting out a sigh and pulling out a rebreather,

"We don't have those, if you're going to—," Tim started,

"You don't need it," Darren growled, shoving the rebreather in his mouth and tossing a small little bomb at the Talon. He then turned, grabbed Livia by the hand and sprinted down the hallway to his right as the bomb went off showering the area in red smoke, the sounds of agonized retching echoing after them for a few moments as they ran before it mercifully stopped,

"Was that what I think it was?" Tim hissed at him, "You _weaponized_ the Serum?"

"I was toying with the idea for a while. What better time to test it out then now," Darren replied, after spitting the rebreather out—they were a safe enough distance away by that point,

"That was an insanely _dangerous_ thing to do! You could have _killed_ yourself making that!" Tim snarled at him,

"Do you two know each other?" Livia asked, huffing as she tried to keep pace with Darren,

"No," they both said at the same time. Secretly Darren was thankful for Livia's interruption, he didn't want the lecture,

"Are those Talons?" she asked, Darren grimaced,

"Yes," he replied shortly,

"And they…don't die?"

"Very little will kill them,"

"And you're one of them?" Darren jerked to a stop,

"How do you know that?" He demanded,

"I-I guessed," she stammered, wary of his sudden anger. Darren let out a sigh,

"Yes. I am like them,"

"And yet you try to keep Gotham safe? You don't… _want_ …to kill people?" Darren opened his mouth to reply but Tim interrupted them,

"Less talking more getting the hell out of here!" he snapped, Darren nodded and turned the nearest corner. Only to jerk to another stop at the Talon he saw at the other end of the hallway, the Talon hadn't seen them yet but Darren still recognized him,

"Oh you have got to be kidding me… _Ralph?"_ Darren exclaimed, the young Talon—in age rather than in the order they were turned—snapped his head in their direction,

"Oh yes, call out the name of the person we're running from," Stephanie muttered from behind,

"You _know_ him?" Tim demanded,

"Yeah, my great-grandfather killed him,"

"—You're… _wait what?"_ Livia cried, Ralph started running towards them, pulling out a dagger as he did so,  
"Never mind," Darren stated, pulling her and the others into the nearest room. It was an emptied classroom. No desks in it, they were in the older section of the school and a lot of the rooms weren't in use due to construction on this side of the buildings that make up the academy. Darren picked up the nearest and only chair left in the room and tossed it out the window. Turning to Stephanie and Tim he nodded towards it,

"Jump," they didn't hesitate. They leapt gracefully out the window,

"What the hell! Is jumping out of buildings a common activity here?" Livia screeched. Darren regarded her warily, glancing at the door he'd jammed closed briefly, before holding out a hand to her. Ralph pounded at the door, trying to get it opened,

"I know that perhaps you do not trust me right now…seeing as this is entirely my fault they are after you. I didn't think they knew we had gotten…uh… closer…I didn't think it would matter to them and I am—," he didn't get to finish his sentence as Livia stepped forward and took his hand,

"You have nothing to apologize for. I trust you. I _know_ you," she said gripping his hand firmly,

"Then we need to jump,"

"Okay…that I'm not so sure abou—," she never got to finish his sentence as Ralph smashed through the door,

"Always with the dramatic entrances," Darren growled at his old year-mate,

"Interfere with my assignment and you'll die," was all Ralph said. Darren tugged Livia closed to his side before pushing her to the corner of the room as Ralph tossed a dagger at her. Darren then leapt at Ralph, the Talon claws he thought he'd never again wear, extended and ready to kill. He swiped downwards and tore a chunk of the floor out instead of Ralph's face, the other boy had leapt out of the way in the blink of an eye. Ralph was standing to his right, his sword already drawn and he swung it downwards. Darren rolled away, the tip of the sword missing his neck by an inch,

"You know you can't outrun the Court," Ralph sneered as they danced back and forth, swiping and slashing missing each other by mere inches and centimeters each time, "And even if you manage to defy them and fight by the Bat's side, they can't protect you forever…they will die and you will live on…we will be all you have left," Darren was sick and tired of people saying that to him. He grabbed Ralph around the middle and tossed him through the nearest wall,

"Jump!" he yelled at Livia,

"I don't know how!" she cried back. Darren turned to her moving to grab her hand and jump with her only to be tackled from behind by Ralph. They wrestled with each other, both trying to get on top of the other. In the end it was Darren thrown flat on his back with Ralph straddling his waist, his Talon mask leering over him,

"You know I always wanted to kill you. It was _your_ stubbornness that nearly got me killed _without_ being turned. I don't even think the Owls would care," he sneered in Darren's face, a Serum dagger in Ralph's grip hovering just over his heart. Livia suddenly appeared behind Ralph and swung her backpack at him with all her strength,

"Get off him you Sasquatch!" She snarled. Ralph turned and growled at her, reaching to grab her. Livia scrambled away, dropping her bag in the process. Darren, using the distraction to his advantage, threw Ralph off of him once again and lurched himself towards Livia. Picking her up with him, he stumbled slightly due to the angle he had picked her up at as he jumped out the window. Partway through the window he realized that at this angle he'd land on Livia and in desperation reached out a hand to grab onto the window sill. They were too close to the school's stone walls to try flipping them around midair to change how they would land.

He clutched the edge, both of them panting. Darren held Livia close to him, her arms snaked around his middle and was about to let go of the ledge when a searing, roaring agony pierced through his hand. He yelled out in pain and glanced upwards to see Ralph above him, another Serum blade in his grasp ready to make the final kill, the first knife impaled through his hand up to the hilt, keeping it pinned to the building. He couldn't let go even if he wanted to,

"Sorry Livia, hold on," Darren hissed quickly as he let go of her, causing her to squeal in fear and tighten her arms around his middle even more. He pulled out a flash bang and before Ralph could plunge his second dagger into Darren, this time at a more lethal place—his jugular most likely—threw it into the room. He squeezed his eyes closed tightly as it went off. Ralph staggered away from the window screeching in pain, blinded by the brightness. He didn't know how much time that left him. That was one flash bang, not two…he wouldn't be incapacitated forever,

"Let go!" Tim called up to him,

"I can't!" Darren snapped down, "Why is it always my hand?" he muttered to himself,

"Renegade! I'm slipping!" Livia cried. Darren tried to grip her arm but she slid right through his grasp, forcing him to grab onto her hand. Gritting his teeth he pulled himself up part way by his injured hand—ignoring the fresh agony it brought—to peer into the room. Ralph was on his hands and knees, feeling around for the knife he dropped or a different weapon to use to finish the job he started. Now that Darren had the Serum—albeit a low concentration—in his system, he could be killed like any other human: _easily_. Darren considered their situation. He needed to stop Ralph and get the others to safety. The only way he was going to do that was by freeing his hand and he needed his non-impaled hand to do that,

"Livia,"

"What? What is it?" Darren cringed with regret,

"Livia—," he started, but she started to try and speak over him her panic getting the best of her, _"Livy!"_ he cried…that shut her up,

"I'm sorry…but I need to let you go,"

"What! _No!_ This is at most two stories up! I don't jump off rooftops everyday like you do!"

"Tim will catch you!"

"I'm as tall as he is…maybe taller!"

"I can hear you!" Tim called up to them,

"You'll be fine!" he insisted ignoring Tim, he'd better catch her or he'll have Darren to deal with,

 _"No!"_

"It's either I do it when you know it's going to happen or you drop when I'm killed by this psycho above us!"

"I heard that asshole!" Ralph sneered from the room,

"You were meant to!" he yelled up at Ralph before saying to Livia, "I fell three stories and lived!"

"You broke every rib in your damn body and you're a regenerative assassin!"

"Happy landings!" Darren said having enough of their arguing as he let go of her hand. Her face morphed from shock to anger as she clutched at his hand, trying to hold onto it even as her grip failed her. While she was a very strong in her own way as all dancers were, her grip was not at the level any of the vigilante's were and Darren felt only an instance of regret at the sudden fear in her face as her hand slid from his and she fell. Darren didn't see whether she landed or not, he'd rather not see her crumpled to the ground if Tim had not gotten there in time to catch her.

Instead he pulled himself up and ignoring the glass that pierced his forearm as he laid it on the broken window sill, grabbed the knife and yanked it out. He switched hands then, putting the left forearm on the window sill to hold him up and used the other to grip the Serum blade and as Ralph leapt at him a pocket knife, left behind by some worker or another, in hand Darren arced the blade into Ralph's eye, the front orbital rim of the skull cracked by the force of the blow. The dagger plunged right through to the back of his skull. He ignored the blood that splashed his face and made his grip on the window sill slippery, he just watched as Ralph fell backwards and then let go of the edge. Falling to the ground and landing gracefully.

Darren instantly looked for Tim, Stephanie and Livia. He found Tim and Stephanie trying to use their phones and looking around for any kind of police authority near the back end of the school,

"Where's Livia?" Darren asked, looking around worriedly,

"She's right over—," Tim started,

"—Here!" she snarled and Darren whirled around, Livia looked pissed,

"How dare you!" she snarled,

"I'm sor—," he didn't get to finish as her hand cracked across his face, _"OW!"_ he cried out, stunned by the actual pain of the slap. Tim let out a loud cackle, Stephanie elbowed him with a glare,

 _"Happy landings?"_ She seethed, "H-how _dare_ you drop me like that!" Livia snarled shaking out her hand from the slap before rushing at him. Darren tried to sidestep her but she threw her arms around him in a hug. He stared over her shoulder at Tim and Stephanie in utter confusion,

"I thought you were mad," he stated,

"I am! But I'm mostly relieved," she stated, "Just don't _ever_ drop me from a building _again_ ," she poked him in the shoulder sharply at each word, her eyes narrowed. Darren wasn't really paying attention, he was just probing his cheek and wondering why she had gone from slapping him to hugging him. He was at a loss as to why, hadn't he saved her life by letting her drop? Apparently that bit of information slipped her mind, but at least the worst of it was over.

* * *

A few moments later a few EMTs finally found where they were standing in a clump,

"I found some other students!" one guy called into their walkie talkies, "Are any of you hurt? We heard an explosion,"

"No, we're fine," Tim replied, "Where is everyone? Did everyone get out okay,"

"Yeah, everyone is accounted for. Just three were missing and they appear to be you guys. Let's get you back to everyone out front and we'll check you all over just to make sure there's nothing that needs to be treated,"

"Did you three jump through the window?" another EMT asked, stunned, looking at the chair on the ground and the shattered glass around them. The three students glanced at each other,

"Uh…yeah…with the help of Renegade," Tim stated, nodding over at Darren,

"Renegade…are you alright?" one of the EMTs asked warily. Darren stood a few ways away wavering on his feet. The Serum may not have been very strong, but it was still affecting him…plus he was covered in blood. He probably didn't look that great,

"No he's not. Come with us, we can treat you out front," another guy said, noting the blood coming from his hand and forearms,

"No!" Darren cried out suddenly very aware of everything. He was not letting his blood anywhere near an ambulance, "No…I'm _fine_ ,"

"Really, we should get that looked at, there is _glass_ in your arms," the first to speak urged,

"It's alright. I can get him help," a new voice stated. Darren whirled around at see Nightwing walking over to them,

"I thought you were helping the Titans," Darren exclaimed, a grin in place which faded at Dick's glare,

"And I thought you were at home doing your schoolwork," Dick stated, "Agent A sent out an alert upon discovering you were missing," the other EMTs let out a few chuckles, one shook his head as if to say _'kids these days, running off to save a school from murderous assassins instead of doing their homework'_ Darren did not appreciate that. He chose to ignore them,

"Oh," Darren muttered in reply, perhaps he should have left a note,

"Let's get you fixed up. Those three are in good hands," he said, nodding for Darren to follow him back to the Batmobile,

"Of all the things you have done this is by far the stupidest," Dick muttered, slinging Darren's arm over his shoulder and helping him along,

"Ugh," Darren groaned, "Bite me,"

"Maybe I'll sic Titus on you later, that'll teach you to go get poisoned days after fully recovering from your last injury,"

"Oh please give it a rest. I'm going to get enough of a lecture from Alfred,"

"Wait till Bruce gets back tonight, then you'll be in for it,"

"This time burn my body will you?"

"Don't joke," Dick said sternly,

"Sorry…but to be fair, I'm delirious right now,"

"Clearly," a new voice said, both boys jerked to attention and Darren, through slitted eyes could see the outline of a dark haired woman in front of them,

" _Zatanna_ …what are you doing here?" Dick exclaimed surprised,

"I was passing by and felt an unusual surge of magical energy for Gotham. It was some powerful stuff. I came to investigate,"

"No magic here…just explosions and death," Darren deadpanned,

"Will he be…okay?" the woman asked, a worried look crossing her face,

"He's just poisoned…he'll be fine,"

"Huh _'just poisoned'_ only you Bats would think that's a minor injury," she muttered with—what Darren assumed was—an eye-roll. The woman seemed to consider something before speaking once again, Darren was getting impatient, his hand was hurting, he was dizzy and he was either about to pass out or throw up and he did not want to do that in front of the pretty magic lady, "…he's an odd one. I can't read his mind…I don't even think my magic could heal him if I tried. Not only that but he reeks with an aura of death,"

"He's a Talon…that might be why,"

"I don't know what that is…but I'd love to read about it if you'd send me the file on them. After I figure out what it was I sensed over here of course,"

"Will do I really need to get…" the conversation got cut short as Darren went limp in Dick's arms. Passing out fully from exhaustion and the Serum yet again in his veins.

* * *

A/N: Hope you liked this chapter! I kind of felt that I ran out of steam a little bit by the end of this but I hope you still really enjoyed this chapter for today! Did Malik betray Darren or is this about something else? And it seems Livia has a magician hunting for her, or perhaps a new mentor? Will Zatanna show up again later or was she just a red herring? Stay tuned to find out!

Also, pretty pretty please leave some reviews, the lack of reviews are making me sad :'(

Next chapter on Thursday!


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 21

Livia trotted along with Tim and Stephanie to the front of the school where ambulances, fire trucks and police cars all stood crowded along the block. Students, teachers and other staff members stood in a large crowed, babbling and gossiping about everything that had happened. Pedestrians milled about slowly, hoping to catch a bit of the conversations being tossed around…creating more traffic and annoying the native Gothamites who were trying to hurry past to wherever they needed to be. _They should put screens up, so people stop trying to look_ Livia thought to herself. Parents were arriving, desperately weaving their way through the crowds trying to find their child,

"I think you kind of owe us an explanation," Tim stated finally, breaking the silence between the three of them. Livia frowned,

"There isn't really anything to explain," she replied, "I used magic to save our lives. You're _welcome_ ," she might have stated it plainly, but she was wary of their reactions. What would they say…what would they do? Would they believe her…or would they reject her, call her crazy and ruin her life with the knowledge they'd just gained,

"Thank you," Stephanie said, "We appreciate it…Tim is just paranoid. There _are_ a lot of magic users in the world, they're hard to keep track of and more often than not they don't tend to be on the side of good. There are only two that we know of who are truly good…maybe three…or is Constantine too iffy?" she looked at Tim for an answer. Tim wasn't paying attention, he looked thoughtful,

"That book…the one that fell out of your bag when we were working on our project, that was a spell book wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Livia replied guiltily. Frowning when she remembered her bag was still in the classroom with the body of that Talon, "It was stalking me because I was ignoring it,"

"You were _ignoring_ it so it started _stalking_ you?" Tim sounded like he couldn't really grasp that kind of imagery. To be fair, ignoring books and then having them following you around because you were ignoring them wasn't really a common thing people dealt with,

"You think I wanted these powers? They only just _showed_ _up_ and I don't know why or how they did," Livia said, exasperated, "I only just got the dang thing open too,"

"I…just…we got you pegged so wrong," Tim stated, shaking his head in seemingly disbelief,

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," Tim insisted. They continued in silence before Livia stepped in front of them making them stop in their movement,

"You know…I don't usually tell people these sort of things. I don't just share my secrets lightly…I only tell my friends my deepest darkest secrets,"

"Well then, I guess we're friends," Stephanie stated, a sly smile on her face,

"Do you know anything about the Court of Owls?" Tim questioned, suddenly,

"No…I have no idea what that is. I mean I know it's some nursery rhyme but that's it…though I guess it's the people who attacked us today," Tim looked relieved, "But that is besides the point. _Don't_ share this with _anyone_ …please. I don't want to be the bad guy,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Stephanie demanded, a slight glare on her face,

"I'm a magician…I can—,"

"—make us disappear?" Tim deadpanned, Livia rolled her eyes at the joke,

"No…well actually _yes_ …but that's not what I meant. I can tell people that you're Red Robin and Spoiler," they stared at her in shock before their glares rivaled any guts she had left,

"What makes you think that?" Tim asked carefully, Livia had to smirk,

"I read your mind a few days ago…you were thinking about insulating Renegade's suit differently,"

"So you know _all_ our identities," Tim growled, he seemed pissed that it was him who gave her the blackmail she just used,

"I do,"

"Who would believe you?" Stephanie pointed out,

"They may not believe _me_ …but they would believe it if you took your masks of mid fight and yelled it to the whole world. I could do that if I wanted to…and I really really _really_ do _not_ want to," They relaxed somewhat,

"Well…I mean it's only fair that she has something on us as well," Stephanie replied,

"But us knowing she has powers doesn't bring any danger on her or her family if we do tell someone. If our identities are revealed then everyone we know is in danger," Tim muttered,

"Then don't give me a reason to reveal them. And yes it _does_ put my family at risk. Magic is no joke," Livia insisted, "My mother was killed by magical interference. So was my uncle, and my great-grandfather back and back all significantly young…we've had a series of unfortunate deaths in the Baudelaire family. And I don't know why. But it's clear some other magician has it out for us so anyone knowing that I have magic can and probably _will_ be dangerous for my entire family,"

"Hm…looks like we have a mystery on our hands," Stephanie replied, "We won't do anything to put your family in danger. We promise…we'll even help you investigate these unfortunate Baudelaire deaths," Tim nodded, ignoring Stephanie's obvious attempt to connect the Baudelaire name to the book series,

"Your secret is safe with us. It did save our lives afterall," he added, Livia beamed at them and they all hurried to get to their parents amidst the crowds.

* * *

Darren jerked awake as the Batmobile arrived at the Cave. Dick had probably giving him the Cure on the way to the Cave,

"Welcome back to the living Sleeping Beauty," Dick said with a smirk. Darren rolled his eyes and forced himself to move over to where Alfred sat at the medical table. Needle and thread, tweezers, sanitary swabs and bandages out and ready. He did not look happy about it and glared at Darren when he sat down across from the man and offered his injured hand to fix up. Darren was wary of the silence and the glare. The butler must really be mad at him…or upset that he didn't tell him what he intended to do…or worried he'd almost been killed again…or all three which seemed to be the worst option. But Darren didn't care, he appreciated Alfred's concerns, though his mind was occupied by a different course of action for a certain Talon he had thought to call friend.

Darren stomped into his room once Alfred had finished, slamming the door closed and locking it as he marched out onto the balcony, the dagger Malik had given him to contact the older man with in hand. He had yet to use the dagger and the granite of the balcony railing cracked as he plunged it downwards. The evening light glinted off of the metal and Darren waited. He did not think of the cold and he did not go back inside…his anger was absolute and made it impossible to feel completely cold at the moment. He simmered with the rage. Malik had told the Court about Livia…Malik had _betrayed_ him…Malik had used his trust and endangered an innocent person…he had allowed the Court to mark her and possibly her family. Once Malik was dealt with, Darren needed to warn Livia. She needed to understand the consequences of knowing him.

He waited a few more moments before Malik finally landed on the stone railing of he balcony. The older Talon leapt lightly to the floor,

"What is it Nov—," he didn't get to finish his sentence as Darren grabbed him by the front of his suit and slammed him into the side of the house. The building shook from the force of it,

"Why did you do it?" Darren growled, the promise of death in his voice,

"Perhaps you could be a bit more specific?" Malik bit out, anger in his brown-black eyes at the sudden act of violence,

"Why did you tell the Court Livy's…Livia Baudelaire's name? Why did you put her in their sight!" Darren yelled, he slammed him into the wall again adjusting his grip when the newly sewn stitches pulled slightly. Knocking sounded on his door from inside, Darren ignored it…he'd deal with whoever it was later, Malik let out a laugh,

"You must think very little of me to consider that it was I who brought her to the Court's attention," Darren's glare darkened,

"What do you mean?" He bit out,

"The Court has eyes and ears everywhere. Who was it that talked to her? Who was it that passed by her house every chance they got? Who would sneak in through the window recently to talk as if they were _friends?_ It was not _I_ who brought the girl to the Court's attention, _you_ did that well enough on your own," Darren clenched his teeth…he should have known, he should have considered and while he had, he apparently didn't heed his own warnings to stay away. He'd been enthralled with the idea that Livia was a spy for the Court that he hadn't considered how such attention would look in the Court's eyes,

"You go back to the Court and you convince them that she means nothing to me, you take their attention away from her,"

"And how, pray tell, will I be able to do that?" Malik asked dryly, "If I even try they will then know I have been in contact with you. That can end very badly for both of us,"

"Just do it!" Darren snapped, "I don't care how, just get it done. Tell them she means nothing!"

"What a lie that is," Malik muttered, Darren let out a growl,

"Get it done, get their attention away from her," Malik rolled his eyes,

"It's amusing how such an infatuation can cloud your judgement. Did you really think she was a spy for the Court? Is that what _really_ snagged your attention?"

"Yes," Darren stated curtly. There hadn't been anything else…he was sure of it, he'd been wary of her because of the possibility that she was a spy, her continual involvement with his and Tim's lives had solidified that as well as how she managed to be everywhere something bad happened. It wasn't until the graveyard that Darren learned differently. Malik stared at him bemused before letting out a laugh,

"Whatever you say little Talon, you seemed so _convinced_ of that. Now let me go before I hurt you. I can see you've already had a bad day. You don't want to turn it into a very terrible evening," Darren glowered but let the Talon go,

"Get out of here Malik, before I kill you myself," he didn't turn to see if Malik had left before stepping inside and hurrying out his bedroom door. Dick was on the other side and he started as Darren surged past him,

"Darren, whoa slow down. What was all that slamming before?"

"Nothing," Darren snapped, he needed to warn Livia, "I need to go,"

"What, no! You literally just got injured again, you're not going out tonight!" Dick cried, hurrying after him down into the Cave,

"I need to warn her! She's in danger!" Darren called back to him as he grabbed his suit and went to the changing rooms. He knew he couldn't stop Darren even if he wanted to…and he didn't seem to want to attempt such a thing,

"Warn _who?_ You're making literally no sense! What is _going_ on?"

"Tim will explain," Darren replied, exiting the changing area and hopping onto a motorcycle,

"This is not what I meant by opening up and talking to me!" Dick exclaimed after him,

"I know! Sorry! _I'll work on that!"_ Darren yelled back as he sped out of the cave.

* * *

Darren leapt up to the little balcony thing Livia had outside her window, balancing on the wrought iron railing and knocked on the window. There was no answer. Biting his lip he knocked again before opening the window himself and sliding inside, careful not to step on her bed with his slushy dirty boots. The room was dark and empty and Darren didn't know what to make of that. Suddenly he detected movement in the corner of his eye, he whirled around and started at seeing a black cat eyeing him with either curiosity or hostility…Darren couldn't be sure,

"Renegade?" a voice asked, Darren looked towards the voice and saw Livia standing at the door to her room. She quickly shut the door and locked it behind her,

"You do have a cat," he stated, rather dumbly,

"He's a secret cat…my dad doesn't know he's here," she stated with a shrug. The said cat approached Darren with a hiss, "Plagg, be nice," she scolded lightly,

"He probably smells my dog," Darren replied before he could stop himself. Well technically it was Damian's, but Titus didn't play favorites,

"Hm, you have a dog," Livia echoed with a grin, "What are you doing here? If it had been anyone else coming into my room you'd have been done for,"

"You and your family are in danger," he said, "The Court of Owls has targeted you, you all need to leave," Plagg was winding himself around and through Darren's legs, rubbing his face to them and purring,

"He likes you," Livia stated with a grin,

"Did you not hear what I just said?" Darren demanded,

"I did hear you and I'm not concerned,"

"You should be,"

"Trust me on this Renegade. They can't and won't try to hurt me or my family. Not again," Livia stated,

"You can't know that. They are dangerous…they control _all_ of Gotham. The authorities and the rest of the populace of the city are oblivious to their influence and reach…even the ones who try to interfere are grasping at nothing significant or helpful," Livia sighed at that,

"Renegade. I understand that you're worried, but I can take care—,"

"—I know you can take care of yourself my lady. But because of me you and your family are in trouble. By knowing me you can get hurt or killed or used as some pawn to get me to become another Talon in their arsenal to use against Gotham,"

"I didn't think your regard of me was high enough for blackmail to be effective," Livia stated mutely, crossing her arms,

"You're an innocent person caught in the crossfire of my mistakes," Darren growled, "Of course blackmail would be effective,"

"Believe me… _trust me_ when I say they will not bother me. You said they have eyes and ears everywhere, then they know this as well,"

"You're not making any sense," Darren felt wary about her confidence regarding her and her family's safety. Had she made some deal with them that he didn't know about? Had she actually been in cahoots with them like he'd originally thought? Malik claimed he didn't know her, but he could lie and misinformation was easy to plant within the Nest. Darren didn't know what to make of this, not at all,

"You wear a mask to keep your secrets safe, I speak cryptically to keep mine. I don't want to freak you out…not just yet," she picked up the cat, stroking his fur as she did so,

"You wouldn't freak me out. _Tell me,"_

"I can't…not yet. You're…I, I _care_ what you think of me Renegade," she said looking at him meaningfully, "I care what your opinion of me is and I don't know what you'll think when I tell you the truth,"

"So you won't tell me how you're so sure you'll be safe?"

"And you won't tell me who you are. It's only fair," Darren glowered, fairness doesn't matter when the Court was concerned,

"Do you _want_ to know who I am?"

"Not at the moment…or maybe I already do?" She shrugged playfully and Darren had to roll his eyes,

"This is serious Livy," she grinned even more at the nickname,

"I rather like that name. Only my closest friends back in Boston used to call me that…not even my dad is allowed to," she said it so seriously, like that only truly mattered and not her own safety,

"I shouldn't be one of your closest friends, that's _dangerous,"_ Livia frowned, she didn't seem to agree…or care about any kind of danger. The fact annoyed and worried Darren even more but he held his frustration back,

"What would life be without a little danger?" she replied. Darren bit back a groan. He instead pulled out her backpack that he managed to snag from police custody,

"I got this back for you," he stated, holding it out to her. Maybe a little misdirection will get her to see his side of things,

"Thank you…though I wish I still had an excuse not to do my homework," she muttered. Taking it and tossing it against the wall behind her,

"You could claim you were traumatized by the Talons chasing you throughout the school," Darren stated. Livia let out a hum of agreement before a comfortable silence bled out between them,

"What did you think of _Charlotte's Web?"_ She questioned a moment later, Darren groaned. It was a book she lent him a few days ago. Malik had been right about him sneaking through the window to talk…he needed to be more careful,

"I haven't finished,"

"Well hurry up. I have a pile of books for you to read. Clearly you have not had a proper childhood,"

"So I keep being told," Darren muttered, Livia rolled her eyes this time,

"What _was_ your childhood like?" She asked innocently. Darren jerked his attention away from a new painting hung on the wall to look at her, surprised by the sudden question. It was then that he noticed a silver chain around her neck, it wasn't there the last time he'd seen her, or maybe he just never noticed it before. He frowned, unsure of what to say,

"It mostly revolved around training," he replied after a beat of silence, "Not much time for relaxation or fun,"

"Well Batman doesn't seem like a 'fun' kind of guy,"

"I wasn't trained by Batman," Darren stated flatly, Livia gave him a small sad smile,

"I know…I was trying to be funny. I know you're a Talon and he isn't. You _were_ trained by _someone_ though…someone you don't like," she said it like she knew it to be true. It was true but how would Livia know that, he'd never spoke of his past with her,

"I don't want to talk about this," Darren said, trying not to snap at her, but he probably did and he didn't really feel bad about it. He didn't want her to know of William…or what life within the Court of Owls was like. She didn't deserve anymore nightmares than she probably already had because of him,

"As I said, it's never too late for a _proper_ childhood. What about _Harry Potter?"_ She asked, continuing a conversation from last time about books he has or hasn't read,

"I haven't read it either," she thrust a book in his hands, "I can't read this _and Charlotte's Web!"_

"Why not?"

"I have literally no time…and I'm dyslexic,"

"Oh…I have the audio-books then. They're quite relaxing, it's like you're being read to. You can borrow them!" she said brightly ruffling through the boxes she still had scattered throughout her room,

"Livia, this is _serious!_ The Court is no joke!" Darren exclaimed finally, refusing to be distracted by Livia's enthusiasm for literature any longer,

"And I _told_ you Renegade, I have that covered," she snapped, eyes narrowed. Darren sighed, seeing that he would not get through to her or win this argument,

"Fine, just take this then. It's a GPS device and it only activates when the button is pressed. I'll know if you're in trouble…just keep it on you, for my sanity more than anything," Livia pursed her lips before taking the small device from his hand,

"Fine," she stated, clipping it onto her backpack's zipper,

"Thank you," Darren stated slightly exasperated as he jumped up onto the ledge of the window,

"Finish that book!" she called after him as he leapt down to the street below. Darren rolled his eyes before grinning to himself and hurrying off back home to probably deal with an angry and worried Dick.

* * *

A/N: Well hope you liked this chapter! Any questions or concerns please leave a review or PM moi. Also just because I'm getting kind of worried that you guys aren't actually liking this story and how it's going, please please please give me some love through reviews. I really would like to hear what you are thinking about how the course of this story is going. I'd like to hear what you like or dislike. It would really help me.

Next chapter on Thursday! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Yay! I got a review! Thanks so much! It made my day!

Here's the next chapter! Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 22

"Damian?" Darren hissed into the darkened room, "Psst, Damian!"

"What the hell are you doing?" the angry, disgruntled voice growled. Darren took that as permission to enter the room and pushed the door wide open. Titus surged off the bed and padded over to Darren, who happily petted the gentle giant, "What, no, stop it Crowne! _Get out!"_ Damian snapped,

"But Damian, I need some advice!" Darren replied, perhaps he shouldn't have come into the room at almost three in the morning but hey, he needed some answers and Damian was the only one who could answer them,

"I just got to sleep after patrol Crowne. What are you even doing up? You didn't go out tonight," Damian hissed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes,

"I couldn't sleep," Darren replied, "And I need your help,"

"Of course you couldn't sleep. Why did I even bother asking," Damian huffed, "Get out. You can deal with your problems on your own,"

"No! C'mon, please? This is about Slade," he was going to go and train with his father that day and he needed some advice on what to do, to _say_. He wasn't really one for conversation while training. It hadn't really been allowed at the Court, any little conversation he managed with his sparring partner resulted in some sort of punishment. And more importantly, he didn't really know anything about his father—except the basics: he was his dad, he was a criminal, everyone hated him, etc. Damian had been in a similar situation when he'd first come to the Manor, so maybe he could help him,

 _"Go. Away,"_ Damian growled, lying back down. Darren didn't leave, he padded over to the bed and clambered up onto it,

"I'm not leaving until you help me," he declared, crossing his arms and sitting down on the edge of the bed his feet crossed under him,

"You are acting childish,"

"I just need to know. You didn't know your father all that well when you came to the Manor…how did you get to where you are now?" Damian rolled his eyes,

"I wasn't here that long before my father got himself blown up by Darkseid,"

"Oh,"

"It was Grayson who told me about my father and taught me his ways. Maybe he can help you. Go bother him,"

"He's not here, and he hates my father," Darren replied, letting out a sigh,

"You're not going to go to sleep until you get some form of answer are you?"

"Most likely not," Darren replied, nodding his head in agreement, Damian let out a groaning growl and grabbed his phone off the edge of his nightstand. Darren silently watched him, petting Titus's head that was set on his lap demanding attention,

"Grayson, get your insomniac cousin out of my room," Damian hissed into the phone through gritted teeth. He tossed the small device to Darren who caught it and put it to his ear,

 _"…Darren?"_ an even more tired and disgruntled Dick asked,

"Yeah?" Darren asked, grimacing...realizing guiltily that Dick also just got back from patrol as well,

 _"Go back to your room,"_

"But—,"

"—Now. _People are trying to sleep. Besides you should be asleep right now. You do want to be completely rested for tomorrow don't you?"_ Darren scrunched his nose, he knew Dick didn't like the idea of him meeting with Slade his cousin was just trying to be nice. But even so, Darren got up from his spot and started out of the room to wander the hallways instead. Titus following him as he did so, trying to worm his head under his hand once again,

"Traitor!" Damian called after his dog, but made no move to get out of bed as Darren closed the door,

"You don't want me going out tomorrow. You don't have to be nice about it,"

 _"Is that what is keeping you up? There's no reason to worry about me in this, I'm okay with you meeting your father. I'm just worried about you being out in the open,"_ Dick replied, yawning as he did so. Darren heard someone else shifting on the bed Dick was no doubt sitting up in. It was probably Barbara, _"Sorry Babs, I'll be quieter,"_ Dick murmured as she let out a yawn, confirming his deduction.

Darren turned a random corner. He wondered if he could get lost in the Manor. He hasn't really gone that deep into the older parts of the house,

"I'm worried too, just not about me. What do I say to him? What are we going to talk about? I don't _know_ him!" Darren stated seriously, "And I don't really know what normal dads and sons do…I've never had that, that _normality_ ever in my life and…and what if I mess this up? What if he hates me because of it?" Dick yawned again,

 _"Darren. If anything, the only one who will mess anything up is Slade. You'll be fine. Trust me, it may seem terrifying right now but it'll all come naturally once you're there,"_

"I don't really think so," Darren muttered, turning another darkened corner. Titus whined behind him as he did so but he pressed on,

 _"I said back to your room. Not wandering the hallways like a ghost,"_ Dick stated simply as if he could see Darren wandering where he wasn't supposed to be within the Manor,

"I'm not tired," Darren replied, facetiously,

 _"Yes you are. Now go to sleep Darren. Take one of the pills Leslie gave you,"_

"Because _that_ worked out so well last time," Darren argued,

 _"That was because you took two of them, not one. Remember, we talked to Leslie about this?"_ Dick's tone was one of patience with a small child who would not listen, Darren didn't appreciate that. Apparently one pill was all he needed. Dr. Leslie also warned Darren to use them sparingly to prevent any addiction or reliance on the pills. He hadn't used one since the first time so it shouldn't be a problem now, though he was still reluctant to even try them after the first time with his night terror episode,

"Don't talk to me like I'm a child," Darren muttered,

 _"Then stop acting like one. Go back to your room, and go to sleep. Now. Or I'm calling Bruce,"_

"Dick, I—," there was the sound of the phone being taken by someone else,

 _"Darren?"_ Barbara's voice questioned instead of Dick's,

"Yes?"

 _"I know you're worried and anxious, and I know that you're thinking of every bad thing that could happen among other things that pop up even if they are not directly affecting you. But you need to sleep right now so do what Dick says and sleep. I had a lot of problems sleeping throughout my life. Any kind of bad thought or fleeting imaginary fear turned into a sleepless panicked night, so trust me when I say the best thing you can do is listen to your body and rest when you need to. Keep your mind empty, don't try to think so much. Sleep Darren. Everything will be okay,"_ Barbara's voice was very soothing through the phone. And he knew she was talking about after her attack by the Joker and after she had the special surgery that allowed her to walk again. Trauma like that is not easy to get over…and if she can learn to sleep consistently again, then so could Darren, besides he had specially made insomnia pills for him to use something Barbara didn't have back then,

"A-alright," Darren muttered, "Goodnight then I guess," with that he hung up and padded back to his room, snagging the red pill bottle and chucking one in his mouth before flopping back on the bed. Titus leapt up with him and curled up by his side and slowly, but much more quickly than ever in Darren's second life, he fell fast asleep with no dreams to haunt him or wake him up in a drastic panic.

* * *

Darren was still nervous once he woke up in the morning but he mostly just felt well rested. Which did wonders on his mood. He actually came down to have breakfast with everyone. Damian was still pissed about him barging into his room earlier that morning and stealing Titus from him, but Darren wouldn't apologize for the dog wanting to spend time with someone other than Damian. Tim hadn't mentioned anything else about Livia, or the Court…there hadn't been much movement from them since they almost killed Darren a day or two ago.

Later that day, closer to the time when Darren needed to head out to the fields to meet Slade, Darren realized the skin sewn together by the stitches in his arms and hand were starting knit itself over them. Alfred took them out in the living room. Dick standing over the back of the couch watching Alfred work and Tim sitting on the other part of the couch trying to do part of his project that was due after winter break,

"You're not even flinching," Dick mused at one point, clearly surprised,

"It's not that painful," Darren replied, shrugging,

"Hold still Master Darren," Alfred stated, his expression one of pure concentration,

"He has to _cut_ open your skin again," Dick stated, "And you're still healing… _you_ have to feel that,"

"Not that much. By the time they're all out the skin will just knit itself back together as if it had just happened and I wasn't filled with Serum," Darren replied,

"You didn't flinch either when he pulled the glass from your arm or stitched it up after the school attack,"

"Master Dick," Alfred said in warning,

"What? it's—,"

"I'm used to it, okay?" Darren growled, "It's not the first time I've ever had to get stitches," he left off the bit about how he rarely ever had the luxury of painkillers or sedatives when being treated for an injury—unless it was a serious injury. It was why Talon trainees tried and worked so hard, so that they wouldn't get injured. Even so, some injuries were impossible to avoid no matter how hard they tried. Dick was silent at that, probably remembering when Darren told him weeks ago how a visit from a Talon doctor was always less than pleasant,

"I don't know why you are so confused by it Dick. I figured the reasons Darren didn't react to stitches were pretty obvious," Tim stated from where he sat on the couch, "Talons don't feel pain, some have been alive for centuries. By now they probably have forgotten what true pain feels like, and don't understand that others feel it too. Now imagine that Talon being your _doctor_ ," he gave a pointed look at Dick, who looked silently horrified by the concept. Darren sent him a glare,

"Gee, thanks Tim for bringing up those _happy_ memories,"

"Sorry," Tim replied, not looking up from his work and not sounding the least bit sorry. Occasionally Darren thought that Tim would make a perfect Talon. But then decided it would be a terrifying thing because with his knowledge of everything but mostly technology…the Court would become an even scarier organization. Darren glared at him once more and Alfred tugged a bit harshly on his stitches making him jerk back around to face him,

"Calm down, young sir," Alfred stated. Darren let out a huff of air and rolled his eyes,

"Can I have some cookies after this?" he asked, it was the butler's turn to roll his eyes. Though didn't say he couldn't have the treats afterwards, Darren couldn't help but grin widely,

"Not till after dinner Master Darren," he deflated, a frown forming where the grin used to be,

"But Alfred," Darren groaned, "I've been grievously injured, I require sustenance!" He leaned over the tabletop dramatically,

"I believe you are picking up much too many theatrics from Master Dick young sir," Alfred remarked dryly, "And that will not change my mind, I've had more than two decades to get used to his antics, your's has minimal effect. Besides, your injuries were minor in comparison to previous ones. You were _very_ lucky and therefore do not require cookies at the moment," he was given a pointed look and Darren knew the butler was subtly implying that things could have gone much worse and was conveying his disappointment in his actions that way. Darren scowled but didn't complain. Just sat back up and let Alfred continue pulling out the stitches in his arm. He understood everyone was a bit disappointed in him, but he stood by what he decided to do. They weren't there to act and even if they tried it would have been too late, Darren had been there and he didn't know what kind of person he would be if he didn't go to the school's or Livia's aid.

* * *

Finally it was time to head out. Darren started across to where the lake was located. It wasn't on the Wayne property, but somewhere nearby. Sometimes they'd go there to fish or to ice skate in the case of winter. Darren hadn't joined them on any excursions this year, it was cold and he had never been ice skating before but perhaps it was time he learned something new. He wondered if it wasn't too late to learn the skill. It looked like fun. Perhaps he could ask Dick or Tim to teach him, Damian wasn't much a fan of the ice being raised in much warmer climates before moving to Wayne Manor.

Darren wondered what Slade would teach him that evening and what they would talk about. He needed to know what was going on with Grant and Joseph, he needed to help them if they were in trouble like he suspected they were. They had helped him when he needed it the most, even when they didn't really know him. Though Darren wondered why, if Grant and Joseph were in danger of any kind, Slade waited so long to tell Darren about it despite him asking his father constantly about his brothers. It didn't make sense, but as Darren crunched through the snow he figured at least now he'd get some answers.

Slade was already there, wearing a long coat over black armored training gear, staring off to the horizon at the setting sun. Darren himself had opted for less clothing than usual even though it was cold, he figured they'd warm themselves up sparring or whatever training they'd go through. He wore sweatpants, boots and a long black sleeve training shirt. His dual blades were slung over his shoulders.

Darren felt the flutter of nerves once again as he drew nearer but he forced them away. It was pointless to let nerves dissuade him from talking to his own father…so what if he didn't know him, he was going to talk to him for that very reason. It was why they had decided to do this in the first place,

"Am I late?" he asked as he covered the last few steps and stood a few feet behind his father. Slade didn't turn around but answered him still,

"Not at all, I was just early," Darren couldn't help but let a small smile cross his face, it meant Slade really _did_ want to spend time with him. At least he hoped that's what him being early meant. Slade didn't seem like the kind of man to let time dictate his life, though Darren also knew that assassins and hit-men often needed a thought out time-table to carryout successful hits, knowing when and where your target would be at anytime was vital in that sort of living. He didn't let that deter him or bring him any doubt that perhaps his father did care about him afterall. It was shown in small ways. Ways that others wouldn't see…or perhaps Darren was just being naive…he didn't really know much when it came to his father. It was conflicting to say the least but nothing in his life had ever been easy, why should this? With that somber thought, Darren moved closer until he was standing next to his father,

"Aren't we going to train?" he asked. Slade didn't seem to be carrying any weapons and though he was dressed for combat, he didn't seem inclined to start anything. There wasn't much else Darren was expecting except an explanation of what was going on with his brothers. It was a bit odd and a bit worrying to Darren, he liked the idea of training with his father,

"There's plenty of time for that," Slade said, "Why don't we talk?" Darren glanced over at Slade…was he acting weird? Was this weird behavior for him? Did he usually just talk to his kids…Rose said no one in the family was close to one another, was something going on? Was—Darren jumped in surprise as Slade placed an arm around his shoulders,

"Relax Darren. This is the first time in a while we have the chance to talk just the two of us," Darren didn't take Slade to be an affectionate man…but he didn't mind it either,

"There hasn't really been much talking going on," Darren mused, "I thought you wanted to train with me,"

"Train…talk…what's the difference. Fighting is never just physical," Slade replied cryptically. Darren didn't know what to make of it, but he pushed onward, voicing the question he had on his mind for quite some time now,

"Are Grant and Joseph in some kind of trouble?" If he didn't want to fight, maybe he'll tell him about whatever was happening with his brothers…if anything at all. Slade didn't answer for a moment, he tensed though as if angry but did not answer, he acted as if no one had even spoken. Darren felt a flicker of unease, if Slade just wanted to talk and not train…what did he want to talk about if not his brothers,

"Have you ever heard of the green flash?" Slade asked suddenly, pointing out at the horizon,

"The green flash?" Darren questioned, following his gaze. The sun was getting lower and lower as they stood facing the horizon…the light not as irritating as it was to him during the day,

"An optical phenomena that sometimes occurs just before sunset or right after sunrise," Slade said, "It's quite a sight, perhaps it will happen today. Look out at the horizon,"

"Dad, I don't think talking about sunsets is what either of us had in mind for today," Darren said though he didn't try and shrug off Slade's arm he'd be lying if he said it didn't feel nice to have his father pulling him close, "You said you wanted to talk and that this was about my brothers. _Are they in trouble?"_ he tried not to sound like he was pleading with his own father for answers but that's how Darren felt this was going. He wasn't talking about anything he wanted him to and on top of that he isn't acting like himself…but then again, did Darren really know him well enough to consider that…did Darren really _know_ him and his intentions at all,

"Perhaps you're right, maybe I lied, perhaps I just wanted to spend time with you,"

"Then they'd want to be here too," Darren insisted, "Something is up and it's something you're not telling me!" He moved to pull away from Slade but his father's grip tightened around his shoulders, his other hand suddenly gripping Darren's left arm tightly and pulled it back slightly,

"Dad what are you—," Darren started to say, panic flaring slightly despite himself as the hand around his shoulder grabbed his chin. He tried to grab at Slade to loosen the grip he had on his chin but the hold on his left arm prevented movement and his other arm was trapped by the arm of the hand gripping his chin. His father was strong, as strong as him…maybe even stronger and he pulled Darren in front of him with ease,

"I'm sorry Darren," Slade rumbled before jerking Darren's head harshly to the side. The following crack echoed loudly in Darren's ears as darkness quickly encompassed the setting sun before him.

* * *

A/N: Dun, dun, dunnn. _That_ happened. I wonder if anyone expected that...ya know, expect the unexpected(Bruce apparently hasn't taught Darren that lesson yet.)

Yeah...also sorry if Slade seemed a little OC-ish...I was trying to purposely make it seem like he was acting odd and I worry that I overdid it. Now as for why Slade is doing this? You'll have to keep reading to find out! Most kidnappings are carried out by a parent or relative too, why would Darren be any different especially in his situation? But with Slade there is _always_ some ulterior motive.

Hope you liked this chapter! Please please please REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW if you have any questions concerns or comments about this thrilling story! Criticisms are welcome and I would greatly appreciate them!

Next chapter on Thursday!


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: So...chapter update. I am currently on chapter 35, and still have a lot to go I actually have no idea how many chapters will be in this story or how I exactly want to end it. I have plenty of ideas, I'm just waiting to see what course the current chapters take because more often than not I'll get really good ideas and new chapters will just pop up. But there will be a clear, concise end and there will be a third part to this story just written as one-shots with multiple parts and come clear plot-line somewhat.

Anyway, here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 23

Darren woke slowly, blinking to get the grit out of his eyes as he glanced out the window to see the nighttime sky drifting past. He didn't know where he was…he didn't even know what time it was or how he'd gotten in a moving vehicle. He blinked a few more times before he remembered what had happened. Before he realized where he was and what was going on. Darren let out a sharp gasp and jerked back away from the window, twisting in his seat to see his father at the steering wheel of the van they were both in. He took a deep breath, then another and then,

"You…you…you fucking killed me! You oh my _God_ , you _snapped_ my neck! What is going on Slade!" Darren jerked his head back to his window and then to the windshield, trying to get some sense of his location, " _Where_ are we! Where are you _taking_ me! You fucking killed me…you freaking…I can't believe—! Let me _out_ of this van, let me out _right now!"_

"Darren calm down and let me explain!" Slade snapped, glaring angrily at Darren, as if he was the one who had gotten them into this situation in the first place. Well…Darren was the one who got himself into this situation in the first place by trusting Slade…but _he_ had done this…his father had _snapped_ his neck…he'd virtually _killed_ him with his bare hands,

"You actually…why…what the hell is going on…why would you do this! How could you do this…let me out! Let me out right now!" Darren was yelling at the top of his lungs, he was freaking out. He had no idea where he was, he was in a van with his father going who knows where and no one knew where he was…he didn't even know what day it was, he didn't even know how long he'd been out for,

"Darren, if you don't calm down I'll sedate you!" Slade growled,

"Oh and that's such a step up from fucking killing me!" Darren snarled, attempting to throw his hands up only for them to jerk to a stop part way. He froze and glanced down at his hands which were encircled with thick silver handcuffs attached to silver chains, they looped around a bar drilled into the van just underneath the glove compartment, "W-what the—," Darren stammered, trying to jerk them up again…they wouldn't even reach the window, they stopped just below it and the windshield so people in other cars couldn't see them…he could barely move his arms, his stress levels rose even more…he was in complete and utter distress,

"What the _hell!_ How could you do this! You're no better than the Court at least they had the decency to let me live physically unrestrained! Why are you doing this!" Darren was on the verge of hyperventilating…he kept trying to break the chains, but they wouldn't budge, "Why did you do this to me…why…why won't—ngh—these _break!"_ He was panicking big time…he was freaking out…he had no idea where Slade was taking him, was he taking him to the Court somewhere secret? Were Grant and Joseph being held hostage by the Court and the only way to free them was by handing Darren over to them? Would Slade actually _do_ that,

"Darren I will tell you one more time, _calm down_. They won't break because they're specifically designed for someone with enhanced strength…I can't even break them,"

"Why did you do this to me! Why? Oh my God…you killed…you killed me…you actually—,"

"—Darren calm down! You're already _dead!"_

"That doesn't change the fact that my own _father_ snapped my neck! I thought you wanted to spend time with me! Little did I know all you wanted was to kidnap me for…for…for who knows what!" Darren yelled back. Slade glowered at him and slammed on the breaks, forcing the van to a screeching stop. Darren jerked forward, his seat-belt…which was surprisingly buckled properly, how nice of Slade to actually care about car safety…locking in place to keep him from slamming into the glove compartment,

"W-what are you doing?" Darren stammered glancing around as a series of car horns erupted behind them. Slade reached over and grabbed Darren's arm, slamming a needle into it,

"Sleep." He hissed at him as the world turned blurry surprisingly fast and fatigue washed away his outrage.

* * *

The next time Darren woke it was daytime…he didn't know how late in the day but he could smell food. His stomach growled painfully and he realized it had been a very long time since he'd last eaten. He swallowed and looked over at Slade, still groggy from the sedative…he glowered tiredly at his father who glanced over at him before saying,

"Are you going to cooperate or freak out some more,"

"I'd freak out if I had the energy for it," Darren replied with a bite in his tone, "What the hell are you doing? Nightwing will kill you, Batman will kill you… _everyone_ will be looking for me,"

"We've gotten a head start and I'm not going to harm you," Darren wanted to doubt that…he never should have trusted his father…but a part of him also realized that if Slade really wanted to hurt him he already had every opportunity to do just that,

"There's no _we_ in this…this is all _you,"_ Darren grumbled. Slade rolled his eyes but didn't comment. There was more to this, Darren just knew it. He sat up more and tugged at the chains still around his wrists, an agitated frown on his face. The smell of food was overwhelming and slightly torturous,

"If I give you some food, will you behave?" Slade asked after a moment or two of silence. Darren side-eyed his father but nodded. He handed Darren five bags from Burger King…apparently he knew of Darren's fast metabolism. Darren dug into them, shoving as much as he could into his mouth, Slade had the gal to chuckle at his antics…Darren glared at him again, realizing he'd just basically been bribed with food. He felt slightly ashamed of himself but that didn't stop him from continuing to eat,

 _"Talk,"_ he snarled around his food,

"This was necessary, for your protection—," Slade began, Darren swallowed, barking out a laugh,

 _"Bullshit!"_ he snapped, yanking on his chains and nearly dislodging the bags onto the floor to emphasize his skepticism,

"Are you going to shout more or are you going to behave," they had a glaring contest before Darren looked away with a huff,

"Fine. _Continue,"_

"One of my past employers tried to call in a favor I owed them…but I refused to assist them. The task went beyond my moral code," Darren let out a snort at 'moral code' but didn't say anything and Slade continued, "So during one of Grant and Joseph's jobs they ambushed them and took both boys hostage. I worried they would try and come after you so I sought to minimize their leverage," Darren looked at his father bewildered,

"So all of this—," he jerked once more at the cuffs around his wrists, "was because you didn't want some old boss of yours kidnapping me? Wow, really _brilliant_ , stop a kidnapping by kidnapping the target before the others can!" his tone dripped with sarcasm, which was lost on Slade…or he was just ignoring him. Darren looked down at the bar holding the chain in place…realizing that it wasn't made out of the same material, "And oh, instead of telling them what was going on let's kill them, drug them and chain them to the car…like a _prisoner!_ That will really make them feel safe!"

"Darren, don't be so melodramatic. I didn't kill you, you're a Talon, you're already dead, we've been over this. Besides would you have actually listened to me or believed me if I had told you the truth?" Darren glanced at his father,

"I…well…I would have probably wanted to…so…no. No I wouldn't have," Darren muttered. He wouldn't have believed his father. He'd think he was trying to take him from the Waynes and keep him for himself and his own personal interests. Darren wouldn't have left willingly anyway, they have a court case and he couldn't afford to be cross country hiding from potential kidnappers. Though if it seemed like Darren had been kidnapped they'd have a legit reason to push the case back or put it on hold—though neither option was a good one, the Court would get peckish having a Talon outside their control for so long. They might do something drastic while he was gone…Darren couldn't let that happen. He needed to get back, but all the same if Grant and Joseph were in trouble…,

"Glad to know at least you're honest," Slade muttered dryly, pulling Darren from personal thoughts. Darren rolled his eyes and he reached down and yanked the bar out of it's spot, freeing the rest of the chains,

"Darren, I had the key right here," Slade sighed holding a silver key out in his hand. Darren snatched it up and unlocked the cuffs on his wrist, "You didn't have to destroy part of the car,"

"So Grant and Joseph are in trouble?" he asked, ignoring his father and tossing the bar and chains behind him into the back of the van,

"Yes," Slade muttered,

"I'll help you get them back," Slade raised an eyebrow,

"This will be dangerous…they know about you and that you're a Talon,"

"You think they might call the Court?"

"Probably not, they're out of their influence and reach ," Slade replied,

"Where are we going?"

"Alaska," Darren blanched,

"You've got to be _kidding_ me,"

"Nope. We've made good time. A day and a half gone, two and a half or so to go,"

"Two and a half to—how _long_ was I out!" Darren cried,

"Long enough for us to cross the border into Saskatchewan,"

"We're in…we're in _CANADA!"_ Darren exclaimed glancing around. There were a lot of trees and a significant amount of snow on the ground…but nothing to indicate they were in Canada specifically. There weren't any signs in sight at the moment to give him any information. He thought they were still in the United States, "This _can't_ be happening…Dick is going to kill me…they're all going to kill me. Slade…please… _dad_ , they need to know I'm alright. I've been missing for more than a day…I need to at least call them!"

"No," Slade said shortly,

"They can help us! There's no way just the two of us can take down whatever organization took Grant and Joseph…I mean…well, _who_ took them?"

"Have you ever heard of the League of Assassins?" Darren nodded. He'd read up on them in the Batcave, he knew Damian's mother was an elite member and that his grandfather ran the entirety of it. He knew his father had worked for him in the past but didn't think they'd become enemies so quickly over a refusal of a job. He also didn't remember if the League had any ties to the Court of Owls…which implied they were either both blissfully unaware of one another or it was something to be worried about,

"Let me tell them I'm okay," Darren insisted, "It'll be quick!" Slade didn't say anything, effectively ending their limited conversation.

* * *

A/N: So it ended a little abruptly, but if I didn't end the chapter there it would have been much much _much_ too long. So the League of Assassins makes an appearance, but is Slade to really be trusted? Afterall he did work with the Ra's for some time. Or perhaps that's not even remotely close to where they're going...or maybe it's all exactly as he says it is. Though he's always up for changing alliances if the money's good. And he'll lie when it benefits him. It's the life of a mercenary. The question is...what's going to happen and there's only one way to find out!

Also, of course Slade is going to use food to manipulate Darren into behaving...food is gold to a Talon. *evil smiling devil emoji*

I wonder what you all think of this situation, let me know!

Any questions, comments or concerns are welcome. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Next chapter on Thursday though if there are some awesome reviews I'll post an extra chapter this week!


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 24

They drove in silence after that. Slade staring calmly out the windshield, Darren glaring angrily out his window at the passing landscape. He was deep in thought. Angry and bitter about how he had been tricked. Worried for his brothers…who he had barely gotten to know before they were seemingly kidnapped in an attempt to force Slade to comply to Ra's al Ghul's schemes. Darren didn't know what to make of his situation…he wanted to be home. He'd rather be at the Manor than in a completely different country with a virtual stranger. There was no indication on whether Slade was telling the truth or not. What if he was lying. If he was willing to kill Darren just to get him in this van and into Canada…who's to say he wasn't lying about his reasons? There was no proof in his claims and there was nothing Darren could do to confirm them as the truth. He was trapped…and he hated being used, it's all anyone ever wanted out from him and he was tired of it.

 _Slade could be lying…Slade could be telling the truth. He's lied twice to me before all this…who's to say this isn't all a big lie to get me…to_ where, _to_ what, _to_ whom? Darren shook his head viciously…he couldn't piece everything together. Nothing made sense and there's no way for Darren to get any answers. He picked at his sleeve anxiously, he wondered what the others thought had happened to him,

"Quit worrying," Slade said suddenly, "We're almost to Alberta," Slade apparently thought he was worrying over his brothers and not the issues of his claims. _Pretty much one more province to go after that and we'll be in Alaska_ Darren thought to himself,

"I'd stop worrying if the others knew where I was and that I was okay," Darren muttered bitterly, glancing at Slade before quickly looking indifferently out the window as his father's head snapped in his direction. Darren could feel the worry and frustration and anger twisted into a throbbing lump within his chest at the situation he was in.

He was worried that this was all some trap…a trap of what and for whom Darren didn't know but he felt that something was wrong. He also worried for his brothers, he wondered if they were in danger and he knew that he'd to anything for them if he had to. They cared for him, he was sure of it…they just feared their father more.

Another part of him hoped his father's story was true…and that this was all for him and his brothers, a small part of him believed his father. A smaller part of him was glad to have this time with his father, even if he was wary of it. Even if he couldn't trust him fully. And of course there was this terrible part of him that despised his father's trickery. That part of him hated how he was tricked by the goodwill and excitement he had at spending time with his father and how his neck had been snapped to get him here. The memory of the first time his neck had been snapped as such flashed in his mind and he shuddered despite himself.

Darren needed answers…he needed the truth and he felt the only way to achieve that was to move onwards. But he needed to stay alert, he needed to remain wary and guard himself…especially now more than ever. Especially when he knew deep down that Slade was not being completely truthful. Darren understood that some lies were acceptable, he knew that there was no way to avoid a little bit of lies from time to time, but with Slade it was like a puzzle box—lies layered themselves over and over again, up and up and up until there was no way to tell what was the truth and what was another lie. Darren wanted to trust Slade, but he couldn't…not again. Not after all he's put Darren through and not after the lies he manipulated his sister with, but at the very same time he had no other choice. He didn't want to believe in the worst of his father.

Stephanie had been right, there was a difference between loyalty, love and trust…this was loyalty to a family he didn't know, no trust and no love…and it wasn't enough. This didn't feel right and it was eating him up inside, yet there was nothing he could do. He needed to help his brothers and in order to do that he needed to help his father…but he didn't trust his father all the same. Everything was so messed up…this was not how Darren had wanted things to go…he didn't want any of this to happen and yet there they were. And Darren seemed to be the only person who wasn't okay with it. He was also the only one with limited information, well actually he was the only one with almost _no_ information.

Darren ran through everything he knew about Ra's al Ghul. He trained his followers to be assassins and they were extremely loyal to him and his family. They were an organization that is catalyst to the reformation of decadent civilizations around the globe more specifically civilizations they thought were decadent…or at least they hope to be, Batman and others keep getting in their way. Ra's was also obsessed with living forever, he had used the Lazarus Pit to live for centuries and still does. He knew his father worked for the League of Assassins on and off, but what had been done that required a deal… _a debt_ …Slade would need to pay off by use of his skills? What qualified Slade over all of his already loyal assassins to be the one for this super secret job? And what was the scheme that _Slade_ of all people would refuse to do. Darren didn't know, and if he'd just asked everyone else the questions he had in mind he would know more about his father and pick apart what he was purposely leaving out.

But he hadn't asked those questions, rather he hoped to give Slade the benefit of doubt and gone in to knowing his father with a clean slate…none of his past deeds out in the open to blacken his image…which severely backfired it seemed. Darren let out a sigh and pressed his head to the window as the landscape passed by. He was tired and Slade didn't seem keen on stopping any time soon.

A few more hours crept by before they passed into Alberta and Darren started to get hungry once again. He didn't say anything, and Slade seemed to have an endless amount of energy, he hadn't stopped driving in days or gone to the bathroom…or slept…though to be honest Darren might have been asleep when he'd stop the car and therefore he didn't know what Slade did while he was out. Should Darren remain awake at all times when with his father? He wasn't sure if he could, for some reason he fell asleep much faster in cars than in any bed.

He shouldn't have to be so suspicious when with his parent, but some others might disagree. Darren let out a hiss of a breath, everything involving his father was so difficult and confusing. Slade said he wouldn't hurt him…and Darren believed that…but he also kidnapped him and refused to let him tell the others he was okay and—,

"Would you like something to eat Darren?" Slade asked, startling Darren from his thoughts. He looked over at his father and realized he had pulled into a drive-thru. Darren looked out the window, squinting at the board listing what they had,

"Can I have…uh…the…mozzarella…bacon cheeseburger thing and…what's, what's _poutine?"_ Slade let out a sigh, and seemingly did some mental math before ordering,

"Eight orders of the mozzarella bacon cheeseburger and a poutine," he told the person through the machine. Darren's stomach rumbled and he went to dig into the meals as soon as they were handed to him but stopped himself a thought occurring,

"Slade?" Darren asked, no answer, " _Dad_ , let me call them,"

"I told you no,"

"They are probably freaking out right now. I need to at least let them know I'm okay!"

"I said no. If you do call them they'll try to find you and 'help',"

"Is that really so bad? It's the _League of Assassins,_ the _entire_ League! They have Grant and Joseph! They'll use that against us! Do you even have a plan when we get there?"

"That is why it needs to be just us, the less people involved the less people there to mess everything up. Their morals will clash with ours, they won't be able to do what is necessary to get them out _alive_ ," he hadn't answered Darren's real question or his request. Darren was fed up with his father's lack of answers,

"If you don't let me call them I won't eat," he declared, throwing the bags of food down to his feet glaring over at Slade as he did so, defiance in his posture. Slade cracked a smile, it was a demeaning one…Darren glowered in response. He thought he was joking,

"You won't last even an hour," Slade declared,

"Just watch me," Darren growled. Let the strongest will win.

* * *

To be perfectly honest, Darren did not plan out his hunger strike that well. He'd already been starving when they got the food, now it was smelling up the car in delicious burger smells. Slade eating his food wasn't helping either. He knew the older man was rubbing the food in his face but Darren didn't care. He would win his phone call home. He'd been through worse trying earn assorted things in the Court from a young age and besides he needed to win. So he scrunched down in his seat and tried to sleep. They had passed through into British Columbia an hour into Darren's uncomfortable sleep, the hunger pains just got worse but Darren ignored them. He needed to let the others know he was alright. He could only imagine what levels of worry they were reaching.

The next day, second to last day or so of their drive to Alaska, the smell in the car had died down but Darren was still starving yet he continued to refuse to eat. As the day bled away into evening Slade started to give him slightly worried glances. Darren was surprised he hadn't stopped the car and tried to shove food down his throat himself yet…which made him believe they were on some sort of time limit. The thought was worrying.

Slade knew Darren had a fast metabolism and that food was what truly allowed their abilities to work properly. The speed used energy, the healing used energy, the strength required energy and Darren got that energy from food…or from sleeping but mostly from food. They were going to break into one of the fiercest assassin organizations of the world and having a weak and hungry accomplice was not ideal. Slade gave him a few more glances before letting out a frustrated growl,

"Fine. You win boy," was all he hissed as he tossed Darren his cell phone. Darren grinned, happy to have beaten his father at something. Now perhaps the others would have an eased consciousness knowing he's just going on a little mission with Slade and would need a pickup once it was over. They couldn't get him in trouble for this because technically he didn't run away. Darren dialed the home number he'd memorized, Dick answered on the second ring,

"Darren?" he exclaimed, his voice sounded panicked and strained,

"Dick!" Darren cried happily,

"Where are you? What happened to you and what's going on?" Dick demanded, sounds could be heard around him as he moved off to somewhere else in the house…or perhaps he was in the Cave,

"I'm with Slade,"

"He kidnapped you?"

"Uh…yeah…I guess he did," Darren agreed, he wouldn't go into details about how that happened. Dick didn't need to know that, "I'm just calling to let you know I'm okay. I'm just…doing a little mission with my dad,"

"You're _okay?_ Really? You've been kidnapped by your own father and you're _okay_ with that?"

"Dick…it's much more complicated than that,"

"How so? Darren, we're tracking your location so stay on the phone as long as you can," he almost mouthed the last bit at him, as if so that Slade couldn't hear him. Darren glanced over at Slade, he was focused on the road before him, not giving away anything to indicate he'd heard Dick. Darren bit his lip…it would be good for Dick to know his general location, but it wouldn't be relevant for much longer. They were moving…it wouldn't be helpful,

"That won't do anything…we're moving,"

"It will give us a general location…Darren, you can't trust him,"

"You don't think I _know_ that…but, Dick…my brothers are in trouble and I need to help them. They helped _me_ , I need to _try_ and help them,"

"Why does it need to be _you_ that helps them? Slade has other allies who could help free them from wherever they are. William Randolph Wintergreen a longtime friend of your father's, members of HIVE and Checkmate as well as any other villain organizations and individuals he's associated with before to name a few. Did you even consider that?"

"Of course I have…but…he has pretty good reasons for his actions as well. I'll be careful…you got to trust me," Darren said,

"I trust you, I don't trust him and neither should you. You _don't_ know him. Not the way we know him…not the way _I_ know him,"

"I'm _trying_ to know him," Darren answered levelly, "On my own,"

"Darren this could be a trap…some elaborate trap to bring you right back into the Nest with the Court," Darren couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine at that declaration,

"I…I _know_ that, but there's not really much I can do…we're…we're really really far from Gotham right now," Slade glanced sharply at him, warning in his eye,

"Darren… _where_ are you? How far is far?" Darren side-eyed Slade who was still looking at him,

"We're in—," Darren didn't get to finish his sentence as Slade threw an arm out. He flinched back expecting a blow, but Slade just yanked the phone from his grasp and chucked it out the window,

"Why did you—,"

"—they can't know where we are. They could guess where we're going if they knew we were so close to Alaska,"

"They can help! You've worked together before!"

"And that resulted with you nearly _dying_ again. They won't cross their invisible line, they won't kill and by doing so they endanger everyone by exposing them to the filth of the world over and over again, an endless cycle. I will not risk my sons just so those righteous pricks can keep you locked away in their little tower!"

"They have _not_ locked me away anywhere. The only people who have attempted that in my life are the Court of Owls and _you!"_ Darren yelled, throwing a hand back at the chains sliding around in the back of the van. Not to mention he took him before and drugged him and nearly killed him by putting more Mirakuru in his body, "I'm more free with them than anywhere else!"

"Is that really so? Do you really feel free when you have to stop yourself short from a killing blow every time you face a criminal in the street? It's not that easy to stop once you start, especially when you know it's the only way to truly end crime in the world…perhaps you'll never kill for money but you _will_ kill whether it's because you slip up or because you think they deserve it…either way it's what you truly want to happen, it's your _instinct_ …there's no ignoring that. Killing is the only thing you know…it's the only thing you have to offer and the sooner you _accept_ that the better because there's only so many _'accidents'_ someone like you can have, especially in _their_ eyes," Darren glared angrily at Slade, but didn't say anything more. He instead grabbed the bags from before and tore into the food silently.

He didn't want Slade to know that he was right…that it was harder than ever to hold himself back when there was so much hurt, hate and evil in the world. He tried so hard, but it never seemed like enough. Put one criminal away, two more fill his or her place…adding on and on as the imprisoned are released or they break out.

It was hard to see the logic of the Bats methods when there was one simple solution…but at the same time he knew he had no right to be the executioner even if it would solve everything easily. Even if it would be easier than holding himself back.

* * *

A/N: Hope you liked this chapter! For these past two chapters I really tried emphasizing Darren's struggle to control himself and his killing instinct now that he's not directly with the Bats who remind him constantly of that. Hopefully I'm bringing that in with the chapter content.

Also, Burger King in _Canada_ has _less calories_ in their meals than Burger King here in America does...frankly I'm not surprised but _really_...if Canada can do it so can we :/

Also also...poutine is delicious.

I'd really appreciate some reviews on what you think of this chapter and any questions, concerns or comments you may have! I really love to hear what you think! So PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Next chapter on Thursday, unless I get some great reviews! Then I'll post an extra chapter!


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Really hope you guys like this chapter, it's a long one!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 25

The hours dragged by and they were nearing the end of their trip. Hopefully things would go better than they had for the past day. Total silence since Slade had destroyed his phone. Apparently he was royally pissed Darren didn't follow his orders and Darren himself didn't really feel like talking to his father, he just glared out the window at the forest they were driving through. He was morbidly bored, he was sick of being cooped up in this stupid tin can car, he wanted out. He needed to stretch his legs, he needed to move around and he couldn't do that in the limited space of his seat. Darren was getting stir crazy and he hoped they got there sooner or later, for now though he'd only be able to stare at the scenery.

He wondered how the League of Assassins were able to build their fortress compound here without drawing attention to themselves. He thought the government or at least the Justice League wouldn't be okay with an assassin organization in their country. Perhaps they didn't know or they paid off the right people to keep their operations and presence in Alaska off anyone of importance's radar. Darren also figured they didn't spend all their time in one location, they had multiple headquarters around the world, moving from one to the other often when jobs came up and opportunities rose in their favor.

Darren deduced that the only reason they were in Alaska and the US at all was because that was where Slade was. They were using Grant and Joseph against him, therefore they'd be where he was. That fact made Darren wonder if they expected them to come. He wondered what their odds were and wished that Slade had thought to contact at least one of his allies to aid them. If the League really wanted to use his brothers as incentive, they'd be under heavy lock and key and watched at every moment. He didn't like how this was panning out. The odds were not in their favor, even with their enhanced abilities.

Darren shook those thoughts from his head and looked out the windshield. Dick's birthday was today, he wouldn't get the present Darren had picked out for him…which sucked. He figured it wasn't the best birthday either, some cousin he was getting kidnapped by his own father and missing it completely. The first of Dick's birthdays they shared ever, and he wasn't there to celebrate it with him. Christmas was only a few days away too. He'd never gotten to celebrate it before and it looked like he wouldn't be able to this year as well…he hoped this would get wrapped up quickly so he could get back home.

It occurred to him then, that the Manor was indeed _home_ to him. A home was something he never truly had ever and the others wanted Darren in their home. They _wanted_ him. It was a startling realization, they actually _wanted_ him to stay with them. He hoped he hadn't disappointed them too much…he would come back, they were family just as much as Slade, Grant, Rose and Joesph were.

Snow started to fall once again, heavier than it had earlier in the day. Darren placed a hand on the window and he could feel the chill from the air through the glass. The intense cold did not sit well with him. He also figured they chose Alaska over anywhere else because of his weakness to the cold. If they knew Slade had a son who was a Talon…they knew he wouldn't survive in the cold. Darren pulled his hand from the window and glanced at his father,

"You should have let me grab my suit," Darren said, "It was insulated…and I had a heated cloak,"

"You came in what you are wearing now. I was expecting your Renegade armor. I worked with what I had," it was a biting remark and Darren sent his own in return,

"I was expecting a training session. Not an all out war with the League of Assassins,"

"There won't be a war. This will be in and out, no one will even know we were there and that we took their only bargaining piece,"

"It's never just in or out and how do you know they are both in the same place? Who puts both priceless gems in one box, when they expect someone will steal them? When they probably _want_ someone to steal them?" Darren growled back. Again noting how Slade didn't seem to be considering these issues or telling Darren what he thought about them as well as what he knew of the compound. Slade glared at Darren and he, in turn, snapped his head away to look out the windshield staring angrily straight ahead,

"You don't under—," Slade started,

 _"Look out!"_ Darren yelled. Slade looked back too late as a giant tree came crashing down in the front of their van, them colliding head on with it. The force flinging Darren forward as the windshield broke showering them with glass and a forcefully chilly wind. The airbag deployed, concealing Slade from Darren's view as they were jerked around within the confides of the car.

Metal screamed and sparked as the engine ignited, flame flaring out around them and the force of the crash flipping them over and over in the air before slamming them upside down into the snowy ground. Glass shattered once more as metal screeched and crumpled under the six thousand pound weight of the van itself, and rolled once again over the ground jumbling its occupants until Darren was thrown from the van and into the soft, wet and cold snow squinting into the eerie whiteness of the day.

Darren sprang to his feet instantly, shaking the snow from his clothes and hair. The snow still fell and the air was frigid, his clothes were sprinkled with wet splotches and he was thankful he was wearing boots or his socks would be wet as well. Trying to ignore the worry he felt at the freezing cold temperature he scrambled over the snow and to the still smoldering vehicle. Darren ignored the burns that healed themselves over and he brushed off pieces of glass in his arms, pulling out the bigger pieces when needed, to let the wounds heal. There were no broken bones, not that it would have mattered. Perhaps he had broken bones, they just healed before he could realize. He had to find his father. He didn't call out Slade's name or yell for him. He didn't know how close they were to the compound and he didn't want to alert anyone of their proximity, but he still needed to know if his father was alright.

He climbed over the mound of snow formed by the skidding of the car and crouched down by the driver's side window. It was empty. There was no one there. Darren stood once more and looked out around the woods they were driving through. Where was his father? Had he been thrown out of the vehicle like Darren had? He didn't see anything out of the ordinary. He had a bad feeling about this. He turned slowly in a circle, looking for any sign of his father but didn't see anything but trees and bright white snow.

Darren turned back to the tree, eyeing it suspiciously. Why had the tree fallen in the first place? Hurrying over to the tree Darren saw that it had been cleanly cut by a saw blade, this had been _deliberate_ …someone had meant to do this. Darren stood stiffly by the tree, looking around. Something was off, something was wrong? Where was his father? He could heal almost as easily as Darren…everything felt wrong.

Darren tensed as suddenly he saw in his mind's eye his own backside and someone, dressed in a dark tunic wielding a katana, sprinted towards him on soundless feet. Darren blinked and suddenly he was facing the fallen tree once again. He heard the sound of something whistling through the air and ducked to the right, spinning around to face his attacker. Precognition had acted and alerted him of the danger he was in. The man was clearly an assassin and he wasted no time in trying to attack Darren once again. He had no time for this, with an impatient growl he grabbed the sword as it arced towards his torso, ignoring the blood that dripped into the snow when the razor sharp edges cut into his palm, and swung it out of the assassin's grasp. He then flipped the sword so in a flash of movement, the hilt was in his grip. The assassin barked something in another language and dozens of assassins rained down from the treetops. Darren narrowed his eyes, so it had been a planned attack…the League of Assassins knew they'd be coming and when they'd be there.

He tested the weight of the blade, eyeing the assassins and wishing he had a second sword. He liked the feeling of having a second weapon in hand, it felt right… _balanced_ … _even_ …it was better than having his other hand waving about as a target for another attacker. Fighting with two weapons was like utilizing off-sync partners. One moving in right after the other, one to cover the other to attack…they worked in harmony together to gain the upper hand and win. Though he couldn't do anything about that, he doubted they'd let him get away with that trick a second time.

Darren wasted no time and brought his sword across the stomach of the assassin before him as the others closed in on him. There was no time for restraint and Darren didn't see the need for it. They weren't innocents, they had plenty of blood on their hands and he didn't care what the others thought. They were murderers and showed no mercy for the innocents they had killed…so he wouldn't hesitate to kill them. He whirled through their ranks, ignoring the cold and the sudden stiffness of his movements, the biting cold was slowing him down but that didn't stop him from slamming through the assassins. Dodging, weaving and disarming or killing the assassins as they kept coming despite any setback Darren wrought on them. There was no hesitation and with good reason. He was also angry, he was livid at his situation how his father had lied to him and withheld information. He needed to get away from here, he needed to get home…he should have never gone with Slade in the first place.

A sword slammed into his shoulder and with a cry of rage Darren ducked under the sword's next arcing blow, grabbing the latest attacking assassin and threw him with all his strength. He soared through the air landing just within sight of Darren's enhanced vision, taking a few trees out with him. Darren felt a bit guilty. He should be thinking this through, he shouldn't be acting on instinct but he was in the cold, he was growing slower and slower, weaker and weaker as the fighting continued. He was compromised…and they were killers too. Darren slammed the flat of the blade against an assassin, while dodging the sword of another behind him. They were closing in on him. They were forming a ring around him, and Darren was tiring…the cold was wearing him and his endurance down, making it almost nothing. He was getting desperate. He swung, ducked and parried over and over again in frenzied movements as they just kept coming and coming.

Darren stabbed through the next assassins shoulder, pulling the blade out as another swiped behind his knee. Darren's leg buckled and someone disarmed him, the stolen katana flying through the air and landing somewhere far away. Sword points were out aimed at him and his breath danced frantically in the wind. He reached to swipe another sword but they danced out of his reach, lesson learned afterall apparently.

Eyes narrowed, gathering the speed and strength that was left he leapt at one of the assassins, just a meaningless blur to their eyes and grabbed his shoulder, pulling the sword out of his grasp and spearing his hand through his chest. He tore through skin, muscle and bone with surprising speed until he reached the assassin's rapidly beating heart…he ripped it out…blood spilling in a puddle on the snow. The assassin made a choking sound, eyes on the heart now in Darren's hand and clutched at his chest before collapsing in a heap on the bloodied snow. Silence followed and even the other assassins stopped in their approach, looking at Darren with slight awe and a little fear.

He eyed the heart in his hand before letting it drop to the ground, stumbling away from it…shocked that he had done what he'd done. His hands were coated in blood, halfway up his right forearm was caked in it. Darren stood frozen where he was, surprised at how easy it was…how there was no effort required to rip someone's heart out. It had been done in the blink of an eye. Part of him was sickened by it, another wondered how quickly it would solve all his problems. A third part didn't want to ever do that again…he didn't like the gruesomeness.

Suddenly it was as if Darren was outside his body, looking at his backside once again, an assassin sprinting forward, shaken out of his shocked stupor. He blinked and was once again himself, moving to the side as the assassin thrust forward with their sword. Darren acted without even trying to, jerking his hand forward and through their back as they stumbled past him, pulling their heart out. A strangled gasp followed before they too crumpled into the snow.

Darren dropped the heart again with a gasp, stumbling back and blinking rapidly…he shouldn't be doing this…he was only acting on instinct, he couldn't keep doing this…it wasn't right, yet…there was nothing else he could do…it was _instinct_ …it was _easy_ …they were _killers_ …it didn't matter— _did it?_ This was all too confusing and conflicting to Darren, he didn't know what was right or wrong…and frankly he didn't have the time to decide. The cold was setting in, deep to his bones…he could feel his strength waning and his movements sluggish and slow.

He needed to run…he needed to just get out of here and away…he needed to find his father and then they needed to get out of here. Darren took another step back and froze, looking down at his chest…at the sword point now protruding through his heart. Another assassin, not the one that snuck up behind him—his uncontrollable precognitive abilities not helping in this one moment—barked in anger at the assassin who stabbed him as Darren slumped forward to to his knees. The sword was withdrawn quickly and he collapsed face first into the snow. Darren glared blearily at the assassins crowding around him, yelling and arguing in another language before darkness shrouded him.

* * *

Darren jerked awake, a sharp intake of breath rattling down his lungs for the first time in however long it took for him to come to. He blinked, twisting in his sprawled position on a stone floor, trying to get his bearings,

"So you were right, a sword through the heart will not kill him…well, not permanently," a deep and dark voice rumbled from in front of him. Darren sat up with difficulty, his wrists were chained together once again, to see who it was that had spoken. He was in a somewhat dimly lit room, stone with grand pillars all around and archways leading in different directions out of the room. Before him was a dais with a throne-like chair and within it sat an older looking man, sharp features and dark cruel eyes, he was well built from years of fighting and training. He wore a green assassin's tunic and Darren recognized him from the photos on the Batcomputer. This was Ra's al Ghul…the Demon's Head leader of the League of Assassins. Next to him stood a young woman, with dark brown hair and deep green eyes…she looked a lot like Damian. This was Talia al Ghul…Damian's mother.

Darren eyed them warily. The room was surrounded by guards and so dimly lit that he couldn't see all of them lurking in the shadows…they must have done it on purpose. They knew he was a Talon…they must know he had great eyesight and acted to combat it. While he could see well in the dark, with enough light and shadows layered on, he wouldn't be able to see certain things. He'd glance in one direction and find it too dark, look in another and find it too bright to stare at directly. If he did manage to escape from the chains he wouldn't be able to know their true numbers and therefore have no real chance at getting away.

Darren didn't know who Ra's had just spoken to…or perhaps he was just musing the fact to himself, Darren just didn't know. He looked around once again, trying to gauge their numbers and to see if his father was anywhere in the room. With slight relief he realized he was not anywhere in sight…they hadn't found him which meant he'd be coming to get him. He'll be rescued soon, along with Grant and Joesph…at least he hoped that was true. It was his father's mission all along but what if because he was on his own he wouldn't come and rescue them? Perhaps he'll go find his other allies to help him. He felt slightly bad he'd been captured. It was a failure on his part and he was ashamed that he hadn't been more useful.

Ra's al Ghul eyed him, an intense gaze piercing Darren's own…it was a disconcerting look. Like a hunter examining the size and value of his catch. Letting out a slight cough Darren addressed the Demon,

"Where are my brothers?" he growled. Ra's raised an eyebrow,

"Hm, you'll see them shortly," he replied dismissively,

"My father will come for us. He'll get us out," Darren snapped in warning. Ra's had the gal to smile at that, a dark, cruel and demeaning sneer, and instead acted as if Darren hadn't even spoken, "And if not him, the _Bats_ ," Ra's gaze darkened at that, he'd always been at odds with Batman and he seemed to know Darren was one of them or at least _with_ them. The Bats have proven time and time again that somehow they'd defeat Ra's and hopefully this time was no different. Though it was clear the Demon's Head didn't know the others had no idea where Darren was…and he wasn't inclined to let that slip. Ra's continued on, undeterred by his declaration,

"Do you know what I seek? Do you know of the—," Talia stepped forward and placed a hand on her father's shoulder, stopping him from speaking,

"He would not know. He is but a child and the Court of Owls would not reveal such information to him,"

"It would be easier to just ask," Ra's replied, "You never know what information they gave to him. His great-grandfather is the leader of their assassins, he would inherit all that once the time came if he had stayed with the Court…if he hadn't _run_ ," Darren eyed Ra's, how did Ra's know of William Cobb? How did he know of _any_ of this,

"Trust me. He knows nothing that is clear," Talia stated, Darren eyed them, a frown in place. What was it Ra's wanted to know…and why would they just assume he didn't know the answer to their question. What was it he was after if not leverage against his father? What else was going on? What didn't Darren know? Before he could question Ra's al Ghul any further—to be fair it wasn't like he could make Ra's answer him if he even managed to ask his questions—the man waved to his guards,

"Take him to the others," with that dismissal Darren was hauled to his feet and marched down as series of hallways, twisting and turning with so many left and rights and stairs that Darren couldn't keep track of where he'd come from and where he went. He knew one thing though, they went lower and lower down into the fortress. Down into the dungeons before the guards unchained his hands and tossed him unceremoniously into the dirty floor of one of the cell rooms. The door slammed shut and a lock clicked behind him and Darren was thrown into darkness. But darkness not plagued by the shadows of lights, he could _see_ ,

"Darren?" a voice asked as hands pulled him to his feet. It was then that Darren realized how tired he was and how he was still caked in dried blood, his own and the assassins he'd killed or maimed, it smelled horrendously, "Is it really you?" a hand jerked his face closer and Darren saw Grant before him, Joseph sat a few feet away against a stone wall looking on, his face grim,

"Y-yeah. It's me," he muttered, glancing around the room. Noting how dirty and frigid it was. The dungeons weren't well built, the wooden door on weak hinges and the gaps in the stones within the room noticeable. They were built like that purposely, but it was also worrisome. The window had bars on it but no glass, the wind blowing in steadily. Grant and Joesph both wore coats, but Darren was just in his torn clothes it wasn't great odds for him but they wouldn't be here long. Grant let out a curse, startling Darren, and let him go wringing his hands in anger,

"This is _not_ good. Not good at all," Darren smirked, glad he had some good news to tell them,

"It's not all that bad," he said, turning to look out the small window in the door. There were two guards in place…perhaps that was why Grant and Joseph hadn't tried to escape yet…they were pretty deep in the fortress as well. Noise would bring more assassins they'd be surrounded and detained once more almost instantly, "Dad will come, they haven't captured him…we'll be out of here in no time," he murmured conspiratorially, so the guards wouldn't hear him. Turning to face them with a grin on his face he only found them staring mournfully at him,

"Darren…" Grant started, glancing at Joesph who nodded encouragingly,

"What? What is it?" Darren asked, suddenly feeling concerned. He took a step away from them his back bumping against the door, their expressions were too remorseful…what had happened? What was _wrong_ ,

"I don't know what he told you…I don't know what he said…but we're in here _because_ of Slade,"

"Yes. I know. Ra's wanted him to do something and he refused, that's why—,"

"— _No_. We were put in here because Slade didn't want us stopping him from getting you here. That was his job…that was what Ra's wanted him to do. He doesn't want Slade for anything but getting you into his grasp. He wants _you_ ,"

"What…I…no…I don't understand…why would Ra's need _me_ for anything?" Darren asked, shock numbing the sting of betrayal he suddenly felt. It made him focus on anything but the fact that everything Slade ever told him was again, in fact, lies,

"Darren…we…we had no idea. Ra's…he resurrected us after we were killed as a favor to our father…asking for one in return. The Electrum formula from the Court of Owls. Ra's demanded he bring him a Talon so he could get the formula himself rather than trying to find the Owl with the written formula. A Talon wouldn't be easy to get…or easy to keep from the attention of the Court if they were favored…the only option was _you_ ,"

"But…but…I wasn't a Talon then," Darren said slowly. The stunned understanding that this was preplanned, this was something almost years in the making by Ra's and by his father, overshadowed the pain and shock of finding out his brothers too had been killed—that was why Rose said he should talk to their brothers, because they _understood_ what Darren had experienced. Icy cold awareness washed over him…and he then grasped what Grant was about to say,

"It was true when he said he tried to get you from the Court earlier…but that was before everything happened…after Ra's made his demand and after he refused to resurrect us until Slade gave his word he would help him…Slade chose to follow through. He needed them to turn you sooner…so he started to try and undermine the Court's hold on you. He made it seem like he was trying to take you back...he was really pushing them to turn you sooner. He kidnapped you when you ran and put more Mirakuru in you blood to push them over the edge and decide then and there to kill you and make you a Talon. Darren…I'm sorry…we _never_ knew _any_ of this…we genuinely thought he wanted to save you from that fate…but, he deceived us…he tricked us and used us to help his plan work, to help deceive you,"

"But…why…why does Ra's want—," Darren couldn't seem to form the right words and Grant—a dismayed yet hard look on his face—continued to speak, guessing what Darren was trying to say,

"Ra's is _obsessed_ with immortality…you virtually _have_ that Darren. The Electrum in your blood…that's what Ra's needs. It's why Slade forced their hand to turn you into a Talon," Darren felt as if the world had shifted…only one thought rang through his head: _his father had wanted him_ dead _, his father had wanted him to_ die _…his father had left him with the Court of Owls because he needed a Talon for Ra's to use as a human guinea pig for the replication of the Electrum Formula._

Everything was a _lie_ …from the very beginning. Nothing had been true at all. He didn't care about Darren…he only _needed_ Darren…he _used_ Darren to pay off his own stupid debt with Ra's. Grant spoke his name but Darren didn't say anything he just spun around and slammed on the door, causing the two guards to jump in surprise,

 _"Where's my father!"_ Darren roared at them, _"I want to speak with him now!"_

"Darren. _Don't_ …I don't think that's a good thing for you to do right now—," Grant started, placing a hand on his shoulder and trying to tug him away from the door. Darren shook him off and pushed Grant forcefully away from him. Grant fell back and slid across the floor, his strength in the push more than he intended. Joesph stood swiftly and eyed Darren fiercely but did not interfere. He seemed torn between wanting to see how this would play out and wanting to stop any fighting that may or may not occur.

Darren didn't care what Joesph did, he turned away and slammed on the door again, the hinges groaning. The guards barked out a warning, their hands on the hilt of their swords. Ra's had spoken to his father in that room…that's why it was lit that way so he wouldn't see Slade. So the lies he woven would stay in place, so he could manipulate Darren later into thinking something had _happened_ to him and that's why he _couldn't_ come to rescue the three of them sooner. How he'd convince Darren that Grant and Joesph were lying was a mystery to Darren and it didn't matter now that he knew the truth,

"I know he's here! Let me speak to him now or I swear _I'll kill you all!"_ Darren yelled. The guards laughed at him and Darren lost all control of his anger, everything turned almost red. He slammed into the door with all his strength, sending the door flying into one of the guards and into the wall opposite the cell. As he stepped out into the hallway he yanked the heart out of the other assassin without a second thought and stalked towards the stairs, tossing the heart onto the ground like it were a clump of garbage. More assassins ran down to meet him, they must have heard him yelling and the slam of the door.

Darren showed no mercy. He was filled with pure unyielding rage and hurt and betrayal. Nothing would stop him from confirming the truth, even if he had to kill every assassin in the damn compound to get it.

He was on autopilot, ignoring everything around him as he marched forward. Fighting and killing anything and everything that stood in his way. Grant and Joesph might have been behind him trying to get him to stop or perhaps joining him as they worked through their own anger towards their father at using their deaths and resurrection to justify submitting his son, their _brother_ , to this 'experiment'. Perhaps Grant and Joesph _were_ mercenaries, but they didn't create chaos in the way Ra's would once he got the formula for Electrum and they certainly wouldn't allow their brother to be used in someone else's plot.

There was a reason the Court of Owls kept the formula so secret, if it fell into the wrong hands…if it was given to terrorists and foreign leaders…if it was brought into countries and given only to a certain few…there would be wars over Electrum…there would be black markets and profits and never ending death and carnage as one tried to kill the other for the abilities Electrum brought them. It would be never ending madness…it was a guarded secret so that only the Court of Owls possessed such a valuable weapon, and so only _they_ could forge their own weapons—Talons—when the time required it. They only wanted Gotham…not the world and they knew the danger such a drug would bring if given or sold to another. If Ra's cracked the code…who is to say he won't give it to his assassins? That he wouldn't sell it to the highest bidder? Or that he won't use it to turn tides in wars or political struggles worldwide? He could control everything if he had the drug…and now Darren was trapped with that very same drug coursing through his veins ready to be taken and dissected until all the right parts and compounds were extracted and replicated.

Daren swung through dozens of assassins using his speed and strength to force him forward faster than the assassins could react and counter, searching for his father and searching for a way out. If he escaped, they couldn't do anything…he couldn't let them do this. He ripped hearts out and roared in anger as he slashed through their chests with weapons he stole or took along the way. He ignored the blood only letting him feel the pain and hatred towards his father for what he'd done to him…for what he made him become because of his lies,

 _"STOP!"_ a voice thundered and Darren froze…the voice was too commanding, too powerful to ignore. At the end of the hall stood Ra's al Ghul, a new army of guards around him, his daughter standing next to him holding a sword a hard expression on her face. He wondered if as a mother she recognized the pain in his face, his stance, his very being and actions and wondered if she understood the pain and disappointment he felt towards his father…he wondered if she ever felt it towards her own. But then again, she was an assassin…and they never cared to show or hold onto emotions that weren't practical. Darren stood panting among the bodies of fallen assassins and glared at Ra's, taking a menacing step forward,

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said coldly, nodding to the end of the hall. Darren glanced back and to his dismay saw Grant and Joesph held by assassins at sword point. They were surrounded and close enough that with one flick of a wrist they'd be ended. They weren't as indestructible as he was…they had lost most of those abilities by being resurrected in the Lazarus Pit. It washed away the fast healing the Mirakuru granted them…albeit they still healed fast but not enough for a slashed throat not to be lethal, "Go back to your cell alqatil alsaghir(little killer) and I'll forget that you've killed nearly four dozen of my men,"

"Let me speak to my father," Darren growled, not moving, he was so tired…all he wanted to do was sleep but this _needed_ to be done and he would not let Ra's see him waver,

"You seem to think that you have any kind of leverage alqatil aleadim(mindless killer) and you also forget you killed _my_ assassins," Ra's looked passed Darren at his brothers, "Kill them," he stated simply,

"No!" Darren cried, snapping around to see them closing in tighter around his brothers, the two of them looking ready to fight…but also looking wary. There were many assassins around them and Darren didn't know how long they had been trapped in that cell. With no exercise available and probably no proper diet they were weaker than usual. Darren was too far away to do anything and even if he tried and even with all his speed he wouldn't make it in time…he could throw a weapon but that would only stop one assassin, not the others…he was trapped which left only one thing to do: bargain. Darren faced Ra's once again, "No, _please_ don't! I—I'll…I'll do whatever you want, I'll go along with whatever you need me to do…no more fighting…no running…just _don't_ kill them _please!"_ Darren called to the leader of the assassins,

 _"No_ …ngh…Darren _no!_ Don't make deals with him! _No_ —," whatever else Grant meant to say was cut off by the tip of a sword dipping farther into his throat, effectively silencing him. Though Darren could see they were both struggling with their captors, trying to fight them off. They didn't want to be the shackles that held him here. They wanted him to go and leave them…but he wouldn't do that. If there was anything living with the Bats had taught him is that loyalty made you family, blood had nothing to do with it. It was the choice to stand by one another, protect one another that made them strong, it made them work so well together. Loyalty was their strength…and Darren would make it his own. He would not abandon them. Darren sneered at Ra's…who's dark, greedy grin never faltered,

"Let them go," he growled, "I'll do what you want,"

"Stop," Ra's commanded, the grin still on his face, "Excellent alqatil aleadim, now back to your cell,"

"But _only_ if you let me speak to my father…only _then_ will I go along with anything," he still needed the truth…he needed to hear it from Slade only then would he know for a fact that this was the truth and nothing but the truth. Ra's considered his final condition and Darren grabbed a dagger from the ground and held it to his own throat, "I think the Electrum loses it's hold on the blood cells if the Talon is truly killed, I could be wrong afterall I am only a _child_ but then again I could be very _right_ …we do have some limitations, even still…so I think a living and willing victim is better than a dead one…and you wouldn't want to risk me being right," Ra's glared, his expression thunderous while Talia paled and looked on with shock…surprised that he would so willingly threaten his own life,

"Fine…take him to his father and bring the other two back to the dungeons…make sure he doesn't get his hands on any weapons and that he's properly restrained when speaking with his father. I still need Deathstroke and I don't want patricide to hinder anything," with that guards once again surrounded Darren and led him away from his brothers as they were forced in the other direction and away from Ra's as well.

He wondered if facing his father would ease the hurt he felt…the anger and hate…he wondered if he could ever look his father in the eye and think that any of this was for him…that Slade had ever once cared about him.

* * *

Darren stood in a darkened room, wrists chained through loops in the floor. It was clear the chains were of the same material Slade had used in the car, perhaps he had even given it to Ra's for this very purpose. Maybe he had seen this meeting coming, and that made Darren wary. What would Slade have planned if he had known this would happen and would Darren fall for any trap his father wove for him to fall for. Slade had the luxury of precognition, Darren had no control over what little of that ability he had. It wasn't something he was reliant on, but it was also a liability to ignore it and lack control of it. It could have saved him from so many bad decisions or moves or even from being attacked by the Court's Talons in the first place.

Darren tugged on the chain, the cuff around his wrist was tight…of course he didn't feel it cutting into his skin but he could already see the redness that curled around his wrist. He was so sick and tired of being chained, of being restrained. He seared with anger, malice and bitterness…it seemed chains would always weigh him down in some way or form whether they be real or figurative restraints. Darren would always be held back, he'd always be controlled by whomever held that key to his bonds. It was starting wear on him, perhaps it had started over the past few days which had rubbed him the wrong way or maybe it had been going on for longer.

What if Slade was right…what if Darren couldn't be the hero the Bats were grooming him to be, what if it was too late and their efforts for nothing? What if he could only end lives instead of save them? Perhaps what Slade—Darren growled at himself and shook his head. He would not let his father win over his mind…he was fine…he was _fine_ …he was in control, in control…he had _control_. No instinct drove him—except perhaps just moments ago—he would use his head, he'd _think_ everything through instead of giving in to his _instinct_.

The door creaked open slowly and Slade stepped into the room. He did not look haggard or weary. He did not have armed guards shadowing him as if he had been dragged through the halls to this room. There was no blood on his clothes or dried on his skin from any earlier wounds. He looked relaxed…he didn't look concerned and that made Darren's blood boil. He should be ashamed, utterly ashamed by what he had done, what and who he had bargained with and why and how everything came into play. He should had this situation as much as Darren did…he should see how bad this would pan out,

"You asked to see me?" Slade said evenly. Darren blinked at him, unable to respond…stunned by the civility of the question…shocked by the conversational tone he chose to use. As if this was just a calm conversation between father and son.

Darren tugged on his chains one more time, glaring at his father,

"Why did you do it?" he growled, "How _could_ you do it?"

"Darren…you don't—,"

"No. I understand perfectly. I know what you did, I know what you think will win me over again but I know perfectly well that you just used me like _a pig for slaughter!"_

"Then why am I here?" Slade hissed, "If you understand _everything_ so very perfectly? What use is it to rub in your face what you think you know. Everything I've done, I did for you three boys," Darren let out a bitter laugh, of course he'd try to spin the story in his favor. He'd given Darren some bait, waiting for him to rise up and take it…and perhaps Darren would play into Slade's hands by what he said next, but he needed to hear if from Slade not his brother…everything. Darren needed truth and nothing but the truth and Slade would give it to him because he was desperate for his son…sons…not to hate him, because he still _needed_ them,

"Because I want you to say it. Look me in the eye and _say_ what you _did_ ," Slade narrowed his eyes and Darren knew he wouldn't deliver, not in the way Darren wanted him to,

"What do you want me to say Darren? That I'm _proud_ of this? That this is what I wanted for you or your brothers? What else was I supposed to do? I offered him Mirakuru, but he wasn't interested in healing from wounds, he was interested in being long-lived. So I told him about the Court of Owls. I told him it was impossible to get the formula, so he demanded I minimize the impossibility,"

"And _what?_ _I_ was your risk reducer? I made everything possible? I wasn't even a Talon then!" Darren yelled, stepping forward aggressively, his arms being yanked back by the chains,

"Ra's al Ghul asked if I knew someone within the organization and without foreseeing his plan I said I knew my son was being held there despite my best efforts to _intervene_. He then asked if you were a Talon and I said _no_ , that they weren't sure the Mirakuru biologically in your blood would allow the change to hold and that children were not turned until they were older.

"He demanded I get you _out_ and push them to change you earlier than anticipated by interfering, he said all he wanted was a blood sample from you afterwards and that would be it. You would be free from the Court and we could go our separate ways. I weighed the risks, and I determined the outcome overshadowed it all. I did this for you boys, I _had_ to do this. It was the only way to save Grant and Joesph and it was the only way to save _you_ from the Court of Owls," Darren snarled at that, pulling on his cuffs harder than necessary, he could hear the loops in the floor groaning against his strength—but he had not eaten in a while and they would not come loose,

 _"Bullshit!_ That is _utter_ bullshit. You think I _wanted_ to die? You think that just because you lost two of your sons that killing the third didn't _matter?"_

"That wasn't what I thought and you _know_ it! This _won't_ kill you Darren, Ra's doesn't need to kill you for this…you said it yourself, it is unknown what happens to a Talon internally when they actually die so you will _not_ die,"

"But you _let_ them turn me. You _let_ William _kill_ me just for this…all for _this!_ Grant and Joesph are prisoners being used to keep me here because I could break out of here easily if I didn't hold back…and there are murderers within these walls, I would show no mercy. I was raised to be a killer against my will and I've already broken my unspoken promise not to kill just based on _that_. Because you decided that for me, you made them turn me into what I am now. How is that saving me from the very thing I never wanted to be, how does that fix everything? How is that _helping_ us? How is that doing anything _for us?_

"You _selfishly_ did this because you thought _manipulating_ our lives to fix _your_ mistakes wouldn't matter to us," Darren's voice was raw…it hurt from his anger and from yelling. He hoped it showed how much he hated Slade. He hoped all his father saw in his eyes was unyielding pain and betrayal and hatred because that's all he deserved. He used one son to save the others and then used them to try and justify the manipulation…the fact that Slade would so willingly let his children die for the others, for him and his needs…his deals. It was appalling, it was something Darren would never do, ever even if he hadn't known about this that would never once appear on his radar,

"Don't do that. Don't _flip_ that like this. I did what I needed to keep this family _alive!"_ Darren let out another dark, deep bitter laugh, jerking his chains once again,

"Alive? _Ha_ , as you loved to point out earlier: _I'm already dead._ Grant and Joesph have already died and if Rose had stayed with you, she'd be dead most likely as well. And the reason behind all our deaths… _you!_ I'm probably next again because clearly Ra's doesn't just want a sample, he wants an everlasting _supply,"_

"The old man just wants it for himself," Slade growled, "that was the _deal,"_

"And how often do assassins keep their word? I _am_ one…so know this, it's never very often. I mean, what better way to keep ahead of all the other assassin organizations, terrorist groups, enemies of the League, _the Justice League_ themselves than with an army of undead, _unkillable assassins?_ And why steal from the Court of Owls when you could be handed a young, long-lived _donor?"_ Darren bit out. He probably sounded a bit hysterical at this point but that didn't matter, what mattered was how Slade could overlook a detail like that. How could he _not_ see the benefit of such a drug as Electrum would be for the League of Assassins. As well as the benefit of the Court not knowing someone was working on cracking the formula for that drug because they didn't care about the Talon being used for that research,

"And how would he even know if he got it _right?_ Who would he _test_ it on? Why not his _captive_ who _already_ has the drug coursing through his veins? Every one of the trials they create will be put right into me… _like dissolves like_ right? But what if it's _not_ entirely like the original? What will happen _then?"_ Darren growled lowly growing silent after to let that sink in. Slade was silent, his face nothing but emotionless,

"You still won't die, you'll _live_ …I think a bit of discomfort will be worth it if your brothers live as well," Darren hissed through his teeth, trying to keep his anger in check…his wrists were rubbed raw by this point but he didn't stop,

"You're effectively _killing_ me yourself. The Court guards the secret of the Electrum Formula with their very _lives_ , Talons and Owls alike. Anyone who has ever stolen it has been hunted down to _extinction_ ; every family member, every in-law…everyone you ever knew or spoke to: gone like they never _existed_. They'll _know_ it was me who 'gave' it to Ra's. They _know_ I'm connected to you and they _know_ of your connection to the League of Assassins. _They. Will. Know._ Everyone will be in danger and they'll be after me full force for past transgressions _and_ this…all because you were… _desperate_ —," he could say much worse but didn't…he was too angry to think of another word to use…too sickened to even try, "…If Ra's can have it _anyone_ can and anyone will if it gets out what makes Talons the way they are. You've _killed_ me Slade, more than once. You've _ruined_ me, you changed everything without considering those involved. Are you _happy?_ Was it _WORTH IT?"_

Darren roared those last few words. They slammed throughout the room, echoing mercilessly as he stood panting, the chains on his wrists cutting in deeply and drawing blood as he had pulled on them more and more throughout this conversation, as he tried to get closer to his father—to do what, he did not know, but it had been impulsive and unconscious movement at the same time. He would never look at his father the same way again. Nothing would change what he had done and nothing would make it better. Slade had ruined everything, just like everyone had told him he would.

Slade stared evenly at Darren. Perhaps he saw the shift of perspective in his eyes, saw the way they bore hatefully into his and knew that everything had changed. The hope Darren had for them was gone, crushed by one decision…one choice…that changed the course of Darren's future, one that changed his life. It seemed Slade realized in the moment of silence which consumed the empty stone room, that this was something neither of them would come back from. And it seemed…it seemed…Slade was all right with that for he stepped back and knocked on the locked door,

"I think he has said what he wanted to, and I think he's learned all he could. We're done here," Darren bit his tongue…he still has so much he wanted to say…but all the same he felt empty. Like…there was nothing left where his anger had been or where his hope had been either. It felt like something had left him and it wasn't just energy. Everything he'd ever wanted had been destroyed in a matter of minutes…and it was the truth. It was the truth and nothing but the truth. It was what Darren had wanted, and it was what he had received.

And it left him…with nothing.

There was just nothing to feel.

There was nothing he wanted to feel.

That's all there was.

A bleak…

…Emptiness.

When the guards came to unchain him and pull him away. He didn't look at his father, he just let them guide him away. He was trapped now…more than ever. No one to rescue him and no one that knew where he was. Perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps the Court of Owls will never learn what happened to him or where he was and everyone else…all the Bats, Dr. Leslie, Dr. Branley and Livia…would be safe from their wrath. Perhaps it was better to be trapped within this fortress than out where everyone would suffer just by knowing him.

Perhaps this was his safe haven afterall. He was safe from harming anyone else who crossed his path.

* * *

A/N: Whew, that was a LONG chapter(almost 9,000 words...I think that's a record for me!)Hope you liked it! I worked really hard on this chapter. I wonder how many of you saw something like this coming and how many of you didn't expect this to go anyway like it did.

I really worked hard on this chapter so I would really really really appreciate some reviews! Any questions, comments and concerns are welcome, critiques are welcome as well! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Next chapter on Thursday unless I get some pretty awesome reviews for which I'll post an extra chapter earlier in the week!(maybe I'll post on Darren's birthday...it will be October 31st soon ;) )


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Writing update! I am currently on chapter thirty-seven...and still have A LOT more to go, but I know know how I am going to end this story AND how I will start the next part in this series. I am still trying to decide whether it will be a complete story with a legit plot OR if it will be one shots that connect and have some plots/arcs that connect certain parts together. As of now I am leaning more towards an actual story and I may do the one shots as a fourth installment. I'm not sure, I WOULD like to know what you guys think. I'll ultimately decide once I finish Nobody's Savior and start on the third part. I will give another writing update soon! Thanks for reading!

Here's the next chapter! Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 26

Darren was pushed back into the cell, his feet stumbling over each other at the rough shove. He righted himself with a hand to the stone wall and slumped back against it, sliding down against stone until he was sitting. The room was much the same as before, only this one had a more sturdier looking door. Grant was pacing angrily while Joseph looked over at him with a frown on his face. Clearly his brothers were handling their situation very differently. Though to be fair, Joseph always seemed like the quiet and reserved type…not just because he was mute. It was apparent even though Darren had never known Joesph before the accident that took his voice. Grant faced him with an angry expression,

"Why did you do that, why did you promise you'd let him _do_ this?" Darren didn't answer, just looked at him expressionlessly. He wasn't in the mood to be yelled at…he was so tired and done with yelling and arguing with people. Joseph stepped between him and Grant signing,

 _'Stop it, that is not productive right now,'_ he then faced Darren and knelt next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder before signing to him, _'I'm sorry, I'm sorry you had to find out this way,'_

"I had to learn of it sooner or later," Darren replied, he sounded defeated…mostly he was just so beyond shell-shocked that his own father had done everything to him…he'd planned for everything to happen and it had gone all according to that plan. He'd planned for Darren to die…not even _William_ had seen that everything had been to goad him into turning Darren as early as possible. Most trainees were turned at the age of seventeen, he and his year-mates had been turned younger than that. Ralph had been only thirteen…the youngest among them…they might not have lived. His father had gambled with Darren's life just at Ra's insistence.

Every lie his father had told him echoed around his head…it made him realize that he didn't know if a single thing his father ever told him was the truth. Had he actually known his mother was pregnant…had he known about Darren's existence at all before making the deal with Ra's? Or had he been discovered on his quest to find a Talon to abduct. Darren shook his head, he couldn't think of these things. Not right now,

"Why the hell would you make that deal with Ra's!" Grant snapped, clearly not willing to let up on that issue,

"Because he would _kill_ you! I couldn't let him do that!" Darren growled, he didn't want to have this argument right now…everything had changed…the truth had shattered every expectation he had regarding his father, his death and his future,

"You played right into _his_ hands. We, Joey and I, are the only things keeping you here. You could escape easily, but you're _staying_ because of us. He wouldn't have killed us! He _needs_ us to keep you here,"

"Well so what? You're alive, I'm alive and we're alive _together_ …which means we can still get out of here _together!_ " Darren growled, trying—and probably failing—not to look annoyed. He didn't understand why Grant was so upset about this, clearly he knew that their chances of escape were better together rather than alone,

"We were once our father's pawns, don't make us Ra's pawns against you!" Grant hissed. _Oh, so that's it_ Darren thought,

"You seemed fine with it when it was Slade!" Darren hissed back, surging to his feet. Grant's expression turned thunderous and Darren almost took a step back at that look. He looked like their father in that moment, his rage pure and unyielding, a dark eclipse of anger that crept over his face,

"We owe him a lot," Grant stated with a deathly calm voice,

"Yeah, your deaths," Darren bit out, unperturbed by his brother's tone and glare,

 _'And our resurrection,'_ Joseph signed, stepping closer to them, 'He brought us back and told us about you…we thought we were helping him rescue you. He played us,'

"And _Rose?"_ Darren demanded, "What about her? What about when he nearly got her killed? Why didn't you help her then? Why am I so special and she isn't?"

"It's not that and you know it!" Grant snapped, "She tried to kill us in the past—,"

"—because Slade _ordered_ her to! He made her do that just like he made you do _this_ ," Darren cut in,

"That doesn't change the fact that she did that…and yes, perhaps we shouldn't have let Slade pit us against each other…but that was what happened. We were younger, angrier. We didn't see him for what he was then, but now we do. And we've found we're not okay with being pawns in his games…we know that now. We _refuse_ to be his or anyone else's collateral damage and we refuse to let you be any of that either. We're trying to be better than we were,"

"It's not about who is so and so's pawn…I just, I couldn't _risk_ that. I've lost too much already to lose my brothers again. I didn't even _know_ about that, and you had to watch me die all because of _him_ ," Darren rubbed at his eyes in frustration and shivered in the drafty room,

"There's no guarantee that Ra's won't kill us after he has what he wants either," Grant muttered, "That was _reckless_ and _dangerous_ …there's no telling what he'll actually do!"

 _'Enough'_ Joey signed, a glare plastered on his face, _'we are all exhausted, arguing about what has past will do nothing…and Darren is cold,'_ he took off his jacket and handed it to Darren. He didn't pull it on right away, ready to argue that he was fine and didn't need Joesph giving up his only source of heat for him when it really did hit him how cold he really was. Perhaps it had been adrenaline but it didn't hit him until now and he shivered deeply as he shrugged the jacket on,

 _'Sleep…it's nearly dawn. You need your strength for whatever they have planned…we all do,'_ he fixed Grant with a look and the eldest of them nodded solemnly in agreement before gesturing to the small cot in corner that Darren hadn't noticed when he'd been shoved inside their new cell. Darren got up and started over to the the small, falling apart bed, not even embarrassed that they gave it to him by default.

As he passed Joesph he suddenly realized that he's almost a bit taller than him. Perhaps he shouldn't but he felt a bit glad about that, though of course he wouldn't say that out loud, he doesn't know what he'd think and it didn't really seem that appropriate at the moment. Now they had plenty of time to get to know one another and while it wasn't an ideal situation to do such bonding in, he was glad he was with them rather than alone. It felt right, even in the cold hard reality that he may never leave this place alive…or with both of his brothers intact…at least they were together.

Darren was forced awake not even four hours later by rough and unkind hands grabbing him. He gasped and flailed slightly by accident and hit one of the guards, sending him soaring into the other wall. Someone let out a snort of a laugh to his left and turning with slight difficulty as new hands replaced the old he realized it had been Grant. Both of his brothers were being pushed into the corner at sword point, Ra's no doubt knowing they'd try to stop him from taking Darren out of the cell,

"There's no need for this," Darren snapped at the old assassin leader, narrowing his eyes, "I said I'd go along with what you wanted and that's what I'll do. I won't kill anyone. I keep my promises,"

"As noble as that is, I would feel more comfortable if I knew you weren't snooping where you shouldn't," Ra's replied stiffly, though he did wave off the dozen men that were trying to half carry-half drag Darren out of the cell. The hoard of guards were then replaced by two heavily armed guards, one male the other a female who glared darkly at him as if he were the cause of all her problems. They stood on either side of Darren as they led him out of the cell and up into the main part of the fortress.

They led him through a series of many hallways before stopping in front of a set of lab doors. They looked quite sinister to Darren. Large and ancient looking yet highly modern. The room itself was filled with a ton of lab equipment, scientists hurrying about to get things ready and a medical looking chair…that didn't make Darren feel any better about his decision, but there was no going back now,

"So what's in store for today," Darren monotoned, still staring through the windows by the door,

"Nothing strenuous, just some blood samples so my scientists can try to isolate the Electrum in your blood and then reverse engineer the isolated sample to reveal the exact formula," It didn't sound that bad but the way Ra's eyes lit up with greedy glee, didn't imply it was just one measly test tube they needed,

"I don't understand. You have a Lazarus Pit…you can live forever with that. Why do you need Electrum?" Darren asked,

"Over time the Pits will run out and I grow tired to repeatedly having to grow old and then be returned anew by its waters. The effect of the Pit also wears down on one's mind. Electrum doesn't have that drawback. I'd live on with my mind intact," Darren didn't know whether he should say that even though Electrum would allow him to live forever, any damage inflicted previously to his mind or body would not be healed…Electrum only revives you, grants you enhanced abilities and extends your life…it does not heal past wounds. Without waiting for Darren to say anything or clarify or even tell him of that fact—perhaps it would have changed his mind—the guards pushed open the doors and shoved Darren through them. It seemed this small, isolated, chemical smelling and _sound proof_ lab would be his new home until he figured out a way to escape.

* * *

By the time the guards led Darren back into his cell he was too dizzy to walk straight, he stumbled and slumped right into Joesph who frowned down at him with concern. The door slammed closed and Darren slumped even more, becoming almost boneless in Joesph's grasp,

"How much blood did they take?" Grant demanded as Joesph lowered him carefully onto the ground before he took the both of them down. He grabbed one of Darren's arms and tugged him into a sitting position. Darren blinked a few times, trying to process the question…the room was spinning and he felt like a hot air balloon—though he also wouldn't know what that was like…he'd never been in a hot air balloon before,

"I dunno…three, four pints…six maybe?" Darren warbled,

"Darren, the human body consists of approximately six to eight pints. If they took that much you'd be dead," Grant grumbled,

"Three then," Darren snapped, "My head hurts…I feel dizzy,"

"Because you are extremely _anemic_ right now," Grant muttered,

 _'Shy down,'_ Joseph signed…though he might have signed lie down but Darren couldn't see it clearly as the world swam out of focus once more. He helped Darren to his feet and guided him to the cot. Lying down helped but Grant banging on the door shouting through the barred window didn't really help him relax,

"Hey! Numbskulls, get us some goddamn orange juice and some muffins or something! Taking that much blood is fucking stupid!" The shouting went on for the next ten minutes until finally something was shoved through to them. Darren sat up with difficulty and drank the juice and ate some crumbly and stale bread. Joesph frowned at the food,

 _'Sweets would be better,'_ he signed,

"Yeah well they're being assholes and idiots," Grant snarled, "They did this to keep him weak. The weaker he is the less likely he'll use his abilities to escape…which means things are about to get much worse,"

"Even…ugh, whoa world is spinning," Darren muttered, stopping his eating to stare at the stone floor for a moment or two before looking up and speaking once again, "even if they crack the Electrum Formula…it won't help Ra's. If his mind's going it…won't fix that," he paused every once in a while to stare at the floor or to blink a few times to keep the room still and to keep himself awake,

"Then why the hell did you make this deal! We can't do _anything_ …we're not as strong as we used to be and we don't heal that fast anymore," Grant hissed,

"Because…if this does work…he'll have my _weaknesses_ ," Darren muttered, chugging the juice Joseph handed him,

 _'There's not much that can kill a Talon,'_ Joseph signed, confused by his statement. Darren put the cup down, grimacing at how little there was. It seemed that would be all they'll give him,

"But the Serum will kill him and the cold will stop him…plus there's actually dying to get through and the Lazarus Pit waters' effect from repeated usage might actually interfere with that…he waited too long," Darren whispered to them, wary of the guards outside their door…plus he still felt the effects of having most of his blood drained. Thankfully his rapid healing ability was replenishing the lost blood as they spoke, just not fast enough it seemed—he hadn't eaten much at all in the time he'd been here,

"That doesn't mean we let him win…if he does figure out the formula, he can give it to others who would use it for all sorts of things,"

"I can't really do much right now and neither can you…we need to wait…and plan. We need to be patient,"

"We might not _have_ time," Grant replied, "It won't be long before they crack some kind of formula and use it on you,"

"I know that…but again, our hands are tied. We have no weapons, there are hundreds of assassins here and we don't want any one of us to die fighting through them…we have to wait. We have no choice," Grant let out a frustrated breath and Darren couldn't blame him for feeling that way. Darren had kind of put them in this situation, but at least they still had time to plan an escape of some sort…they just need an opening, a slip up in the guards and security of the fortress then they'd be able to escape before Ra's al Ghul recreated the Electrum Formula.

Though, as Darren lay back down again dozing in and out of sleep and wakefulness, he realized there was one unavoidable obstacle they'd have to face if they did escape: the cold of Alaska. They were not near a town, they were near roads but in the winter Alaska's average temperature was around twenty degrees Fahrenheit, twelve degrees below freezing which would not be good for Darren or for his brothers for a long period of time. That was also only the average it could get even colder, especially at night. He forced himself not to think about it. Either someone found them before then, or they had to escape despite the risk of the cold. No matter what the risks were they _needed_ to escape.

* * *

A/N: Shorter chapter than the last one I know...but that's bound to happen since I've actualy never written any chapter that long before in my life. But I still hope you liked it!

Okay, before you guys get all scientific on me...I don't actually know how much blood is needed to extract something like a drug or DNA out of someone, so my defense for them taking so much is a) to keep Darren super out of if, or at least out of it until his healing replenishes the blood he lost and b) because there will be multiple scientists working at a time...so they need a lot of blood so they can work with multiple samples at a time and whatnot.

That's my logic and I'm sticking to it.

Now: if you have any questions, comments and/or concerns please please PLEASE leave a REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! I would like to hear your opinions on what I said up above and anything you have to say about this story. I really love hearing what you guys think so please consider leaving one!

Next chapter on Thursday BUT since Darren's birthday...if he were a real person and if this story was going along the same timeline as we all are...is on Tuesday I'm gonna post an extra chapter just because I can and because I think it's a cool, cute thing to do. :)

PS...hopefully I remember to do that...if I don't feel free to yell at me in the comments because I have broken a promise and my consistency which people really like about me/my stories. And I'll feel accordingly ashamed because I pride myself on that.

PSS...is that the correct phrase? 'I pride myself...' is that a thing?


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: So I ALMOST forgot I said I would post a chapter today. But thankfully I remembered. You're welcome.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 27

Darren woke groggily at the sound of the door opening once again. Blinking at the sharpness of the light coming through the window he saw Grant and Joesph being corralled away from him into the corner of the room. He was still light-headed and his stomach growled almost painfully with hunger, the bread and juice obviously hadn't been enough for him. Two of the guards turned to him and pulled him to his feet as a nervous looking scientist from before stepped into the cell. Their lab coat askew and a syringe in hand. Darren balked at the thin, long needle. There was no way they managed to get any sort of reconstructed Electrum completed in such short notice. Though based on the scientist's appearance they had probably been up all night trying complete… _something_. There was no way what they completed would be successful. Despite his promise to not resist whatever Ra's had planned, Darren struggled but he was still off from so much blood being drawn and drowsy from lack of proper sleep. It did nothing as they yanked the coat off and basically tore his sleeve apart to reveal his arm. Grant and Joesph were silent, the swords of the assassins before them dangerously close, but their eyes promised a long painful death if they ever got free.

He jerked and bucked, became boneless in the assassins' grip to try and escape their grasp…it wasn't enough. He knew whatever was in that syringe would turn out terribly, but the assassins holding him locked his arm in place, the other holding him in a headlock. The sudden lack of air made the room become bedecked with black spots. The scientist warily approached and shoved the needle into his arm. The guards let him go after that, vanishing through the doors as quickly as they came, the door slamming shut and locking loudly. Darren panted, taking in long drags of air and glared after them, no doubt they'll be back later, they have to see what happened to him.

Darren glared down at his arm, a purplish bruise slowly vanishing. His healing was still functioning, that was good—or the injection was slow acting, he didn't know which,

"Darren! Do you still feel… _okay?"_ Grant asked, hurrying over, picking up the fallen coat as he did so. Of course he knew that Darren was nowhere near fine at the moment but he understood what Grant meant. His brother sent a hard glare over to the doors, "I swear if we could heal like we used to I'd have stopped them," Darren took the coat, blinking as a sudden wave of vertigo hit him,

"I—I, uh…yeah I feel..fine," he mumbled, though even as he said that he slumped against the wall, sliding down it as the world spun terribly,

"Darren?" Grant asked, placing a hand on his shoulder,

"I…I don't feel good," Darren admitted, resting his head on his knees. He stared at the floor, willing it to stop spinning. His stomach was rolling as well now and he also felt hot, but just in flashes…it was weird. Was this in fact the attempted reconstruction of Electrum at work or was he psyching himself out? Someone tapped his shoulder and he jerked back to see Joesph handing him a cup of water,

'Drink,' he signed with one hand. Darren took the cup and chugged it,

"Not that fast," Grant warned, but Darren didn't listen. He finished it and held it out to Joesph,

"Is there more?" He questioned, he suddenly felt parched like he hadn't even had water but he'd drunk sand instead,

"…No…that was all we had for awhile I think," Grant replied dryly,

"Sorry," Darren muttered, embarrassed and slightly ashamed. He hadn't thought of that…they were _prisoners_ here, not guests. Perhaps he hadn't realized that right away because he'd technically been a prisoner of the Court for the majority of his life, but they'd actually fed him properly—mostly, not really when he was thrown in Blackout—The Court valued their Talons and kept them in prime health and condition even if most of their members were initially brought there against their free will. Here they didn't care what happened to them. He stood slowly, Grant and Joesph rising with him,

"Guys, _no_ , I'm... _fine_ ," he insisted stepping away from the wall and starting over towards the cot…only to stumble and nearly fall. Both of his brothers grabbed onto either of his arms, it felt like his balance was suddenly nonexistent,

"Yeah of course you're _fine._ You liar…whatever they put in you is messing with you and the Electrum already in your blood cells," Grant growled, Joseph nodded with him,

'And the Mirakuru. They might not have accounted for that,' Joesph signed as best he could while helping to hold Darren up. He and Grant got the gist of what he was signing. They both guided him to the cot,

"Try and sleep it off. I'll see if I can annoy them into giving us more food and water. You stomach's growling sounds like a whale's mating call," Darren didn't really hear them, he'd already slumped into sleep grateful that feeling of the world spinning had stopped.

* * *

Darren felt something brush his shoulder and he curled tighter into himself. Something shook him once more and he could hear the sound of muffled voices, they were too distorted to hear properly…which was odd, his hearing was usually better than that. Everything ached…everything throbbed like a giant bruise, especially his head. It felt like someone was taking a sledge hammer to it. Someone shook him again, harder this time and Darren let out a small whimper of a groan. He didn't know or remember why he felt this way, but he knew it was going to get worse and he just wanted to sleep forever to escape the turn for the worst. Someone shook him again, this time making his shoulder thump against the wooden bed frame,

"Darren wake up!" a voice yelled loudly in his ear,

"Gah!" Darren cried, lurching upwards in surprise. The world spun and tilted dangerously and Darren threw his feet over and edge of the bed to stare down at the floor until the world slowed in its spinning,

"We've been trying to wake you for ten minutes," Grant snapped as he crouched in front of him. Darren glanced at the snow covered window off to his left, the mound of snow piling up by the bars was higher than before…yet the room felt sweltering to Darren. It was night time too, Darren had been asleep for hours. He felt nauseous, his insides rolling as much as his head did. Everything was a wave of pain, dizziness or nausea. He let out a groan, he couldn't help it. Darren wrapped his arms around himself and bent forward again, trying to breathe evenly out of his mouth and not his nose,

"What's wrong?" Grant asked. Darren couldn't answer him, he didn't trust himself to. Grant in response grabbed him by the chin and pulled his head up, Darren didn't even try and stop him. He looked at him, a frown on his face before tilting his head to one side and then the other before placing a hand over his forehead, pushing his hair back as he did so. Darren leaned into the touch, not expecting the refreshingly cold feel of his hand,

"I don't believe this," Grant started, looking over at Joesph, "He's got a _fever_ ," Darren let out a laugh, it sounded like a drunken laugh which made both his brothers frown,

"The irony," he muttered before his stomach, despite its uncomfortable rolling let out a loud growl. Grant managed a chuckle as he reached behind him, bringing forth a small loaf of bread, a small bowl of porridge and some water,

"It'll taste like crap but it's something,"

"Thanks," Darren replied, tucking into his food, shoving it into his mouth as fast as he could. He'd gotten so used to Alfred's food and large portions that he was almost surprised when it was all gone seconds after he'd gotten it. He didn't even feel like he'd been fed, "Do they know about my fast metabolism?"

'They haven't asked about any dietary needs…how forgetful of them,' Joesph replied…you could almost see the sarcasm in his hand motions,

"Even if we told them they wouldn't care. They'd just use that against you and keep you near starved so you would do whatever they wanted," Grant muttered darkly. Darren nodded solemnly,

"They kind of already are," he muttered, scrapping the sides of the bowl with his fingers. He didn't feel better at all, in fact he felt kind of worse despite drinking something and eating something,

"Don't mention your metabolism," Grant warned, "They'd try and make you dependent on them,"

"If anything they're dependent on us," Darren said, "If anything happened to me they'll never get the Electrum formula,"

"Don't even think about doing something stupid just to stop them," Grant growled. Darren glowered at Grant, opening his mouth the snap that he wasn't, he was just pointing out the truth before he stopped and blanched. Stiffening he clamped a hand over his mouth, looking around frantically for a trash bin of some sort. Joesph looked panicked but scrambled to the back of the room and tossed a rickety looking bucket to Grant who shoved it in front of Darren on the floor. He gratefully upchucked into it, feeling even worse than he did before. Everything he ate didn't stay down,

"It's probably what they injected you with," Grant sighed as he sat down next to him on the cot—the frame groaning at their combined weight—and placing a hand on Darren's shoulder. He gave it a squeeze of sympathy as Darren ducked down again to throw up into the bucket. This time around the door was slammed opened and Ra's walked in along with the scientist and a group of guards. Darren didn't have anything intelligent to say other than a small groan as he hurled again. Ra's looked slightly disgusted,

"Hm…a failure. His body is rejecting the newly created formula," he seemed to be considering something while the scientist cowered, "Kill her," he stated simply,

"No! Don't—," Darren couldn't even speak fully before he disappeared back down into the bucket, but he heard the crack and knew the woman was dead. A new scientist was brought forward, brandishing another syringe. Darren finally done with his upset stomach eyed the needle with slight horror. They couldn't have something new…not now, not only mere hours after the first,

"Give him the new trial," Ra's stated,

"No, you just gave him the first!" Grant growled, "It's not completely out of his system,"

"If need be we will take another blood sample to see how the second one reacts individually from the first, but for now…give him the second," Ra's insisted, nodding at the guards who advanced on Darren's brothers, both of them standing protectively in front of Darren. Swords were drawn and they weren't given much of a choice…Ra's may have spared their lives initially, but it was clear he didn't care what happened to them and Darren needed them, especially if the effects of the trials were going to be this bad or possibly even worse.

Two other assassins went to Darren, one grabbing his arm, the other holding him still as he yet again tried to pull out of their grasp…if he felt this bad now, how would he feel with a second extremely _different_ formula in his system? Either way the needle was pushed under his skin and the new and 'improved' formula injected into his already compromised system.

* * *

Livia emerged from her room, rubbing her eyes tiredly and letting out a yawn. It was late afternoon, she'd slept in very late…almost too late for her. It would be a pain to try and get back to a regular school and ballet infused sleep schedule after repeatedly staying up as late as she had been. They were more than halfway through winter break, time really flew every year…it was kind of disappointing but she was glad to even have a break. New Years was a few days away and then they'd be going back to school the following Monday. She grimaced at the thought of wearing her school uniform again and the clunky shoes. Her beloved stripe of red was already long gone from her hair, she'll have to wait until summer to dye it once more.

As she entered the living room, which connected to the combined kitchen/dining room area, she made sure her necklace was tucked under her shirt. If her father saw it he'd go ballistic and demand she removed it. Not that she could, she had tried to take it off after she'd first put it on to shower but nothing would undo the clasp. It was probably magic…but whether it was protecting her, itself or the book's secrets she didn't know and of course, she felt there was no reason to discover that bit of information…at least not yet. Thankfully the pendant seemed to be protected from tarnishing and rusting, it was as pristine as the day she pulled it out of her mother's grave,

"Ah, she lives," her dad said brightly where he sat with a mug of coffee, already in his coat and scrubs, "Just what were you doing up so late?" he asked nonchalantly. Livia tilted her head to the side as if considering her answer, her braid flopping off from over her shoulder as she did so,

"Reading," she stated simply straightening up, it was the truth…though the reading she was doing was clearly not the type her father would want her to be devouring,

"Reading? _Really?"_ he asked raising an eyebrow,

"Promise, I have a project due right after break," that was also true, though she'd finished her part of the assignment days ago, "I swear no illicit activities were being done," she held up her left hand, with her right over her heart,

"I wouldn't put it past you," he said mutely, taking a sip from his coffee mug but his light brown eyes twinkled and his smile lines were visible revealing that he was in fact only joking. Though Livia gave him a wounded look,

"How dare you consider me such a scoundrel! I am the perfect daughter, only few are lucky enough to have one as perfect," she declared dramatically,

"And daddy isn't one of them," a new voice called and a toy of some kind, made out of some hard plastic material was thrown from the room branching out of the living room, smacking Livia in the shoulder,

"Are you seriously going to let him throw his crap at me!" she snapped, not really _that_ annoyed. Her dad shrugged and took another sip of his coffee,

"I need to leave in three minutes, I can't sort this out with that time limit,"

"Haha!" Peter called out at her, sticking out his tongue, before slamming his door shut again,

"Alaric!" Livia screeched, trying not to laugh. His eyes widened and he looked at her with a slightly disproving look on his face,

"You haven't called me that since you were little," she also only called him by his first name when she was upset with him…though this time she wasn't at all upset, she just forgot,

"Well I was told I called you 'Ric because I couldn't pronounce your name," Livia corrected, "Dad was much easier though," she added with a smile. Her dad rolled his eyes but grinned back at her. A period of silence settled as Livia pulled out a box of cereal, a bowl and milk,

"Cereal this close to dinner?"

"This is breakfast for me," she declared,

"I left money on the counter by the way," he stated, clearly almost forgetting to tell her. Livia nodded as she nearly overflowed her bowl with milk, the cereal already inside floating around…just the way she liked it, extra milk to drink up—and for Plagg—when she was done with the cereal part. She usually cooked when their father had a night shift, but occasionally they had takeout as a treat. Livia pulled a spoon from a drawer and turned back to her cereal,

"I got it!" she called suddenly, causing her dad to jump,

"Got wha—?" he started, just as the phone rang. Livia leapt up from her seat at the island counter and took the phone,

"How did you know it was going to ring?" he demanded, picking up his keys as he moved to the kitchen sink to put his mug of half-drunk coffee in,

"Oh…um…" Livia stated, eyes widening as she realized that she hadn't even known it was going to ring…at least she didn't know it would ring consciously, "I—uh…Tim…he needed to call to talk about…the, uh, the project," her response was a shrug and a wave as he left the penthouse. Livia let out a sigh and put the phone to her ear,

"Hello?" Tim's voice echoed from the other end,

"Tim? Oh wow, it really was you, how funny," she replied, chuckling,

"What?"

"Never mind, what's up," there was a pause,

"You haven't heard from Darren have you?" Livia frowned with the phone tucked into her shoulder as she picked up her bowl—spoon and all—and started back to her room,

"No…now that you mentioned it I haven't heard from him or seen him in…well…in almost more than a week and a half,"

"Nothing? _Nothing_ at all?" Tim asked, seemingly trying to confirm something,

"No, nothing. Is something wrong?" she shut the door to her room and set her food down on her cluttered desk…Tim sounded worried…or stressed…or actually both worried and stressed. Was Darren in trouble or had he figured out he knew she knew he was Renegade, or did he find out she was a magician and decided not to associate with her…because he was a Talon and they were superstitious. If those Talons she scared off feared her power, he probably would as well. She could be wrong but she didn't want to lose him, not to something like that which was why she didn't tell him how she knew the Court of Owls would leave her alone. Well they've left her alone for now at least. Nothing had happened since the attack on the school, but she hadn't seen or heard from both Darren or Renegade since the attack either, so that could mean he knew and was angry with her. She bit her lip, concerned,

"You didn't tell him I knew who he was, or that I'm a magician did you?" she asked, suddenly worried,

"No, not at all. I didn't have the chance to,"

"What do you mean didn't have the chance to?" she demanded, stirring the cereal around so it would get soggy—some thought it was gross, she liked it that way—she hadn't wanted him to tell Darren at all. But the way Tim phrased that response indicated that something might be wrong and that he hasn't seen Darren in a while despite living in the same house as him,

"Nothing…you're a witch…don't you know tracker spells or location spells?"

"Magician," she corrected, trying not to sound too annoyed, "I don't like the term witch…it makes me sound and feel all sinister, magician's nicer sounding and it feels more accurate,"

"Livia, _focus_ ," Tim insisted,

"You know when I ask if something is wrong and you respond with a question like that…it implies that something is in fact _wrong_ … _what's going on?"_

"Nothing to concern yourself with…do you know any of those spells?"

"This _is_ something I need to concern myself with if I need to use my magic to help you!"

"This is—this is _theoretical_ …just please, Livia…humor me, answer the question," Livia sat down on her bed with a sigh, grabbing her spell book—her grimoire, Book of Shadows…any witchy term for a spell book—and pulled it closer,

"No. I don't know any. I'm self-taught Tim…and this book despite its size is filled with so much information and history, it's really confusing. There's a table of contents in the _middle_ of the book, there are warnings _after_ the spells…some things are in other languages—archaic languages, latin, Serbian…or maybe that's Persian…I'm not sure on half of them. Some things are _locked_ , meaning I can't access them for whatever reason. It took me _all_ night to decipher just one page…but I can try and find some sort of location spell, for when or if you need it…I'm sorry, I wish I could be more help," she replied, a frown on her face as she ran her finger down the spine of the book,

"It's okay Livia, it's not your fault…it's really not a big deal," that sounded like a lie, "…I was just wondering if you could do something like that, it would make an investigation go a lot quicker," it sounded like it was a big deal to him…she could hear muttered voices on the other line and she really hoped it wasn't who she thought it was,

"Does this investigation involve Darren?"

"Livia…I don't want to drag you into this,"

"If he's in trouble—,"

"—we'll handle it. You're a _civilian_ Livia,"

"And you're asking for _my_ help!"

"Just…just let me know if you've found anything," he replied and before Livia could say anything else the other end clicked, indicating he'd hung up on her. Livia glared at the phone before tossing it on her bed. If Darren was in trouble…she'd know, wouldn't she? She's a magician…she was psychic, at least a little psychic if the 'phone not ringing yet she said she'd answer it' incident was any indicator. She glanced at the book before snatching it up, hungrily searching through its contents for a locator spell. If Darren was in trouble and she was the only one who could find him…she needed to get to work, she _needed_ this spell and fast.

* * *

A/N: Again, not a scientist I don't know how anything really perfectly works or whether anything I made Ra's said is accurate but for the sake of the plot let's say it all makes perfect logical sense.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! And I hope you have an exciting, enjoyable and spooky Halloween(for those who celebrate it) I will be taking a Criminology test and dying inside as I do it.

Also, I tried calling my dad by his first name once and he got all mad but HE calls his mom(my Grannie) by her first name and she doesn't bat an eye and I pointed that out and he was like 'I'm a grown up meh!'(minus the 'meh' part, I added that in for mockery effect) and he is extremely hypocritical sometimes. But yeah...even if I was able to call him by his first name I wouldn't because it's kinda weird. Fun story of the week.

As for writing...I am still on Chapter 37, writer's block has been taking hold a little bit only because I haven't written in a while and I'm trying to force myself to write, which produces crappy chapters that I have to edit fifty times over for them make sense and make them more interesting and exciting. I'm hoping once midterms die down I'll be more relaxed and feel creative and imaginative enough to write more. I'm pretty far ahead but I think I'm not going to post more than one chapter per week anytime soon or at least until I get ahead-well _more_ ahead-again.

Next chapter on Thursday! And PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Soooo I almost forgot that I needed to post this chapter. Thankfully I remembered. Hope you like this chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 28

In all of Darren's second life, he never would have imagined that he'd ever want to die again. Right now, in the moment…he wanted to die. He didn't know what day it was…he didn't know how much time had passed…he didn't even know if it was daytime or nighttime. He shook on the ground, writhing as spasms wracked through his body, he shivered even as he sweat with fever and air rattled harshly down his dry and raw throat. His stomach rolled even though nothing he'd eaten had stayed down.

Grant and Joesph had tried to get him to eat, but nothing would stay in him. They'd tried porridge, pieces of bread, soup and then broth but he'd thrown it all up and their increasingly worried glances at one another was not encouraging. He was severely malnourished, especially for a Talon, but that didn't seem to register on Ra's Al Ghul's radar. He just wanted the formula, he didn't care how long that took or what happened to the one supplying the blood to recreate it. He couldn't even sit up, let alone stand anymore…but that didn't stop them from injecting him with more trial Electrum formulas. Darren's arm had purple bruises trailing up and down it, the veins branching out from each injection site darkened, inking out like they were inflicted with some form of disease.

One would think that recreating Electrum was like any other anti-venom, vaccine and or injectable medicine…but it was not. It used old and new variations of certain plants, compounds, liquids and other things unknown to Darren. It was not something that could be recreated easily. Not only that but the components of the Mirakuru drug already there were probably interfering with the process. Darren writhed again on the floor of their dungeon, waiting for the click of the lock in anticipation of the next unwanted injection. Grant and Joesph were asleep on the stone floor along with Darren. Grant by the window, Joesph a few feet away from Darren.

He shivered again and tried not to scratch at his arm. The nonstop injections and then a sudden absence of them was creating almost withdrawal-like symptoms. He'd gotten so used to them, and since there were similar compounds within the formulas that were in the Electrum, the fake formulas were being mistaken as something his body needed. He didn't need anymore Electrum…but the difference from the original formula was tricking the old…perhaps he wasn't entirely correct on that, but he was too miserable to consider anything else.

Darren twisted onto his stomach, the sunlight from the barred window piercing his eyes as he crawled to the rickety bucket and pulled it slowly towards him…trying not to wake Grant and Joesph who had tried to stay up with him through the night. He then pulled himself to his knees and threw up into the bucket…the back of his throat felt raw with acid reflux. He coughed, upchucking once again, waking his brothers up as the sound echoed loudly throughout the room. Joseph blinked tiredly, Grant gave him a look before nodding at the bucket. He was the closest to Darren and Joseph went over to him, looking into the bucket before signing to Grant,

'Only bile,' Darren grimaced at that,

"That's bad," Grant muttered from his spot. Darren began to nod in agreement before ducking down and retching into the bin once again. Joesph patted his back sympathetically, trying to offer some comfort and support before signing back to Grant,

'Means there isn't anything left in him to throw up. We need to get out of here.' Grant opened his mouth to say something when the door was unlocked and thrown open. Darren scrambled back into Joesph who instinctively grabbed onto him, despite how the movement upset everything in him,

"No, no…please," he tried not to sound like he was whimpering even if that was what he was doing. They didn't understand what they were doing to him, or they didn't care. The guards just pulled him from Joey's grip and to his feet—he slumped over as the room spun, shaking and trying in vein not to throw up again—and dragged him between them out and down the halls, back to the lab.

Based on what little Darren was aware enough to hear the scientists say, they were taking more blood from him, hoping to isolate the individual compounds and ingredients that worked in tandem with the original Electrum. They'd then stop using what didn't work. He let out a hiss of breath as a needle was stuck in his arm, clenching his hand into a fist. His healing factor wasn't working anymore…the effect was being hindered by the trials.

Darren didn't understand how that was happening but then realized that if the Electrum was destroyed by the Serum…some things that were in the Electrum was used in the Serum. Mixing up what components were used was creating a negative reaction. It was similar to using venom to create an anti-venom, but reversed a bit. That sort of creation involved injecting some living thing with the venom and using the antibodies they create to make an anti-venom. The process was similar to what they were doing to Darren right now…only creating the Electrum from just his blood wasn't enough, they needed to remove the Mirakuru from it to get a pure sample of Electrum to try to recreate it and that was what they injected him with in the hopes the two would join without any problems. But they hadn't. That meant his blood cells which were changed by both Mirakuru and Electrum couldn't be without the other. That was why he reacted the way he was currently, there was no Mirakuru in the new dosages, something that the Electrum worked with in tandem. Ra's might need both Electrum and Mirakuru to make this work…or it wouldn't work because of the Mirakuru's presence. If Ra's found that out, he might no longer need him or his brothers. It also meant he might have found the right ingredients for the Electrum formula already but because there was no Mirakuru combined with it, he was reacting badly indicating negative results.

The scientists milled around, oblivious to Darren's internal worry…and internal health deterioration. Though they were doing their jobs…they were trying to survive. If they messed up too often or even showed sympathy toward Darren…they would be killed. The one scientist, who sat next to the chair Darren was in, placed a hand on his arm,

"Relax," she murmured to him gently, a small glimpse of worry on her face. Darren glowered at her and yanked his arm out of her grasp despite the flash of pain and the wash of dizziness that followed the movement. She had the gal to tell him to _relax_. _They_ were doing this to him, they were making him sick. And while perhaps they were also prisoners here…there were some who willingly agreed to work for Ra's. They wanted to use the Electrum themselves and while it was unclear Ra's would be willing to share the drug with others—only if it benefitted him of course—they clearly thought that was a possibility. Another scientist noticed the movement and pulled his arm back onto the armrest viciously, making sure the blood was still flowing through to the test tubes.

Suddenly the doors were pushed open and Talia walked through. The scientists surged to their feet and gave her a respectful bow. She ignored them and eyed Darren, he looked back through hooded and tired eyes,

"Leave," she stated simply. The scientists looked around at one another bewildered,

"Lady Talia…we, uh, we were told to stay until—,"

"—I said _leave_ ," Talia hissed, "Can you not see that he is ill?" she gestured angrily to Darren, shaking and sweating in the chair, "He needs to recover before you can take anymore blood," The scientists stared at her dumbfounded,

"Do _not_ make me ask again," the scientists cleared out and she walked over to Darren, waving away the guards that followed her into the lab,

"You leave as well…and speak not a word of this to my father," the guards shared a look before nodding and bowing. Darren, not caring for his dignity or his pride, looked at Talia. Even turning his head was an effort,

"Please…please, no, no more," his breathing was shallow and his voice no more than a whisper…he hated this. He'd always hated feeling weak…but never before had he felt like this. If he got out… _when_ he got out…he'd never feel this way ever again. He'd make sure of it. He'd eliminate anything and anyone who tried to make him feel this insignificant and weak again. That he promised. He would protect those who were innocent, and destroy those who were not. He wouldn't let anyone tell him to do anything different. Perhaps it was an empty promise and things would change once he was home…but in that moment, that was how he felt and that is what he believed.

She stared down at him levelly, her gaze calculating and her green eyes a vicious sort of green, as she reached down a pulled the needle from his arm. Darren didn't flinch, just slumped back with relief…he was _done_ with needles. Talia reached for his arm once again and pulled him to his feet,

"I am taking you to your brothers…and I will make sure you can escape tonight," surprise flooded through him, though he had no energy left to look shocked or to try and read her expression to see if she was lying. He leaned heavily against her as she started down the hallways with him, he noted that she avoided all locations where guards were stationed. Slyly she slipped two daggers into his pocket,

"Use these. Give them to your brothers. I will make sure there is only one guard posted at your cell door, Grant can take care of him. The key is concealed within one of these daggers and you can escape through the tunnels underneath this fortress," Darren didn't understand why Talia would risk this much for him…why she wanted him out of her father's clutches when she stood by his side for so many centuries…for so much time,

"Why…why…are you—helping—," he tried to get his question out, but his nausea came back full force making him clamp his mouth closed. Talia seemed to understand the question nonetheless,

"Because I do not want my father to live forever. The Pits will run out, I will inherit the League of Assassins. I can lead our organization to greatness on my own and eventually, my son will lead the League of Assassins as I did and his grandfather before him. I _know_ he will come back to my side one day. Perhaps helping you will secure that," Darren doubted this would opt in favor of that fantasy, Damian despised the control she and his grandfather had wrought on his life. They'd taken all choice from him…and Darren understood that dilemma, the feeling that nothing is yours and everything is only what the ones in control wanted. It was smothering, and left unwanted stains on ones' psyche. He didn't say any of that though, instead he vomited all over Talia's shoes,

"Sorry," he groaned, trying desperately not to do it again. Talia let out a disgusted snort—a very un-Talia sound—as she led him the rest of the way into the dungeons, handing him off to the guards at the cell door and leaving before he was thrown back into the confides of the dungeon.

* * *

"What happened?" Grant demanded as soon as Darren rolled back over onto his back, the room spinning. Joesph glared at their older brother as he knelt next to him clearly not liking his bluntness and lack of sensitivity. He tried to give Darren some water, which he gulped down, and then some broth which he pushed away shaking his head trying to ignore the pulse of nausea that rolled through him once more at the sight of the bowl. It wouldn't stay down and he didn't want to try it again. Joesph looked as if he wanted to argue but let out a soundless sigh, setting the bowl down on the ground. No doubt he'd try again once Darren was asleep—for once he wasn't hounded by insomnia, but he'd rather have that then this never ending shit show. He sat up as best he could and signed out what Talia had said to him, not wanting the guards to hear what he had to say. Darren handed them the daggers she gave him as well. When he was done, Grant shook his head a dark glare on his face,

'That's too good to be true,' he signed,

'It's our only shot,' Joesph argued, gesturing to the cell and then to Darren who glared back at him,

'We…have…no choice,' Darren signed sloppily,

'We don't know the tunnels, we could get lost down there,' Grant harshly signed,

'We can't go…out that way…anyway…at least not, right…away,' Darren urged,

'Why not?' Joesph questioned,

'We _need_ to destroy the blood samples they have,'

'We won't have time to go all the way to the lab just for that,' Grant insisted,

'We need to. My blood in their…hands is still…dangerous. They will use it to recreate formula and test it on some other unfortunate person…the only reason _I'm_ not dead yet is that there are some…components that are correct and bond with the Electrum properly…if they cobble it together based on…what worked and get rid of what didn't, they'll have it and then chaos will reign worse than any other time before,' Darren shook his head harshly, trying to remain cognizant. Grant and Joesph shared a glance before they nodded in agreement, realizing that perhaps letting Ra's try to recreate Electrum was a bad idea. They then turned their attention to Darren,

'Rest, you'll need all your strength,' Grant signed,

"Rest does nothing," Darren growled out loud, "I'll feel just as bad asleep as I would awake," Darren looked away from his brothers thinking to himself _it won't make a difference because the cold will force me into hibernation Talon style once we get outside._ The thought sent a shiver, unrelated to the fake formulas, down his spine and clouded his mind with fear. He'd never been put in Cold Storage before, and now there was no way to avoid it. He wasn't ready, but again he had no choice, and he was tired of never having that,

'Do it or we won't escape,' Grant signed, a hint of over-protectiveness laced within his gestures. Darren glowered at him, '…we need you _with_ us,' Darren glowered even more at Grant before lying down fully and trying to sleep. He was once again disturbingly successful at it for him.

* * *

Darren was shaken awake by Grant a few hours later, darkness glimpsed through the barred window, he opened his mouth to ask whether or not Talia had come through on her promise but Grant put a finger to his lips and nodded to the door. Darren was relieved, Talia hadn't been lying she really did want them to escape. Grant banged on the door, getting the guard's attention and as he approached grabbed him by the throat through the bars, holding him in a headlock until he passed out letting him fall to the floor with a audible thunk. They sat in silence, waiting to see if any assassins came running but none did. Darren didn't know what Talia did to distract everyone, but he was glad it was working. Grant pulled out the key hidden within the hilt of the dagger and reached through the bars, unlocking the door easily. The door opened soundlessly and Grant grabbed the guard, dragging him into the cell and snapped his neck without a second thought,

"We can't have him sounding the alarm once he came to," Grant whispered in reply to the look Darren threw him. Darren shrugged, he didn't really care. He watched as Joesph searched the assassin for more weapons to handle slumped against the wall, itching at his arms—a withdrawal reaction that he couldn't help or ignore—before Grant came over to him, "Stop that," he growled, "You're fine," Darren nodded in agreement

"I'm fine," he echoed, letting his hand drop back to his side. Grant crouched next to him,

"You need to get on my back…there's no other way this will work than this," with a sigh Darren agreed. Grant reached down and lifted him up almost effortlessly, which concerned Darren as he was just a few inches shorter than Grant. He wrapped his arms around his brother's neck and finally they all step out of the cell together for the first time in almost forever.

All three of them hurried to the lab, sneaking around corners and stepping soundlessly on their way down hallways as well as avoiding any locations that had security cameras. Once inside Joesph and Grant took out all of the scientists who were working tirelessly to help a man who would most certainly not help them. They didn't kill them on Darren's request, though they all knew they'll be dead once Ra's finds out what the three of them had done.

Perhaps he asked his brothers to spare them because he wanted to grant them time to escape once they realize the lab had been destroyed, though maybe he also knew that they were innocent people who didn't deserve his hatred towards their compliance with Ra's plans. Hopefully some woke up before Ra's found them and ordered their deaths. But also another, darker, part of him wanted them alive so they _could_ suffer for what they agreed to do for Ra's. Perhaps it wasn't right but Darren wasn't in a sympathetic mood,

"How should we destroy your blood?" Grant asked, trying not to be obviously taking note of how Darren clenched at his shoulders with his hands at being in the room. Darren glowered at his expression, relaxing his grip before replying,

"Fire," he said simply nodding at all the flammable liquids in the room. Grant and Joesph share a look before Joesph shrugged,

'Good distraction,' he signed. Grant started grabbing the containers and passing them to Joseph who dutifully doused everything in the flammable liquid, setting up a trail that led to the doors of the lab. They then dragged the unconscious bodies of the scientists out of the room before lighting the pathway to the flammable liquid, sprinting in the other direction as soon as everything sprung up in flames.

They ran to where Talia said the entrance to the tunnels was located avoiding the assassins as they swarmed to the lab. They knew the assassins, upon realizing that not only had they escaped but set fire to their precious laboratory, wouldn't think they knew of the tunnels snaking underneath the fortress. It took a while, a ton of twists and turns and backtracking, hiding from assassins combing the tunnels for their rogue prisoners, some arguing and angry signing, but eventually they stepped out of the fortress and into the snowy winter wonderland of Alaska…blinking up at the cloudy night sky with smiles on their faces. They were finally out…they were free. Darren let out a shaky laugh…wondering if perhaps he was dreaming, but he knew it was real and as awful as he felt the nighttime air actually felt pleasant on his face.

Joseph and Grant, with Darren still on his back too weak to truly walk on his own, trudged through the snow. Wind and the nighttime dusting of snow ruffled through Darren's hair. He clenched his teeth at the sudden understanding of how cold it was outside and tightened his grip out of fear of that cold, knowing what would eventually come next. His breath danced in the air before him, snaking through the night air. It was very, very cold…he could feel it down in his bones. He wore Joesph's jacket…which he regrets, eyeing Joesph shivering a few steps behind him and Grant, but he'd been offered it. If only they had time to find an extra one for his brother… he knew internally just the jacket would not be enough. He'd accepted this outcome a while ago for whenever and however they escaped, but still buried his face into Grant's back trying to stall the inevitable,

"Hang on Darren," Grant called back to him, his voice extremely muffled by the wind and Darren slowly losing sense and feeling and consciousness of the world around him, could barely nod in response and understanding. Cold seeped in, numbness right after… and then a stiffness couldn't quite describe because he was not moving but knew it was there, he knew that if he tried to move something would shatter like an ice sculpture because he was too cold. Just endless coldness and tiredness he didn't know he could feel and, and—he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore it was too hard and too cold. He couldn't move, he couldn't stop his body from shutting down entirely…darkness filled everything as his eyes firmly closed, his grip slackened only slightly because his fingers could not even uncurl themselves like they would if he were merely unconscious. Then…then there was nothing. No sense of sleep, or time…or feeling…there was simply and utterly… _nothing_. Just a spaceless void.

* * *

A/N: AHHHH I am so tired...I did this at midnight after doing a Criminology assignment that I seriously struggled with because I for some reason cannot form coherent sentences right now at this time of night...or day...WHICHEVER IT IS!

You know that drill! Any comments, concerns or questions PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Or PM moi!

Next chapter on Thursday! REVIEW PLEASSSSE


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Writing update: I have completed chapter 37 and have written 38. Unfortunately it is shit so I am editing the crap out of those two chapters and I have a pretty good idea about where I want to go from there. The only hard part is actually writing it. But I will, of course! :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 29

Darren sputtered awake as steaming hot watered showered over him. Even as steam filled the air around him, he shivered. He frantically looked around, wondering where he was…he wondered what time it was…he wondered what _day_ it was. How long had he been… _gone?_ It was an indescribable feeling to be pulled from a mindless stasis and back into reality. There was no feeling, no movement, no thought in that mindless state. He could hear things…the wind, voices, the nighttime creatures that paraded through the woodlands…but nothing really made it through to his consciousness. He couldn't worry about what they meant, he couldn't react to things and he couldn't see or know what was really going on—he couldn't _think_. It was disconcerting and he didn't really understand where he had gone or if he had even gone anywhere at all.

Was it an abyss? Some unknown level of meditation? Did he just vanish deep within himself, into a place where breathing wasn't vital to live. Somewhere within himself where lack of a heartbeat didn't mean death…or was that what happened? Did he die…but not completely because technically, he was already dead? Darren didn't know the answer, he couldn't find it, he didn't want to either. That place where he went, that dark mysterious and forbidden place, would never be explored. He would not seek those answers…he did not want to know the truth out of fear that it would destroy his very being and leach any purpose he had from his second life.

Darren shuddered again and his eyes found Grant and Joesph looking down over him, the water still showering down on him from above. The heat melting away the stiffness and the ice cold numbness from his body. They looked severely relieved as they both helped him out of the tub and covered him in a large warm towel,

"W-what ha-happened a-after I-I fr-fr-froze?" Darren mumbled over chattering teeth. It appeared they were in a motel, where Darren didn't know but it was heated and had two large beds and a couch shoved in the corner which didn't make sense to him. Grant handed him some new clothes, stolen or paid for Darren also didn't know but he accepted them nonetheless, and helped him into them before answering,

"We trudged through the snow until morning before finding the nearest highway," he guided Darren—who was still disoriented from his sudden awakening—to the nearest bed. Pulling the sheets and comforter over him along with extra blankets. Slowly the feeling of free unhindered movement was returning. The heat of the room and bed lulling Darren almost to sleep once again. He forced his eyes opened, he would not sleep again…not yet, he couldn't,

"We followed the highway until we reached main roadways and hitchhiked from there. We then made it to Anchorage and found this motel to stay in for now,"

"How did you explain me?" Darren asked, his speech finally not halted by chattering teeth,

"It was difficult we said you were asleep but…well…you were stiff as an ice sculpture though to be honest most people who let us get a ride didn't ask any questions and we didn't give any answers,"

"Probably thought I was a valuable piece of art," Darren muttered, cracking a small smile in an attempt to be funny. Neither Grant or Joesph laughed,

'They will be looking for us…we'll need to move soon,' Joesph signed to Grant, who started pacing at the foot of Darren's bed at that declaration. Darren nodded mutely in agreement to Joey's claim, feeling worn down and tired despite not having to move through thick snow all night with nothing to eat after not being treated well or fed properly for who knows how long.

What Joey said was the truth. Everything Ra's had worked up to destroyed in a matter of minutes by the three of them. If it weren't for Darren's usefulness, he'd have a death sentence over his head like his brothers probably did. It wouldn't matter if Darren said he'd only cooperate if his brothers were kept alive…they were dead in Ra's eyes,

"I can rent a car…hopefully we can get some distance between us and them that way, before Dad joins in on the hunt," Grant said after a moment or two of silence. Darren grimaced at that. He made it sound like _all_ of them would be going on the run from their father…all of them together, but he didn't want to do that. He didn't want to live looking over his shoulder everyday, hell he already did that with the Court of Owls, he couldn't do that with his father or the League of Assassins as well.

He wanted to go _home_ , he wanted to get the trial over and done with…he wanted to live with Dick and have him as his guardian. He would not be going with them, he couldn't. Not after everything that had happened and everything he'd found out. Not after the various truths that had come to light. He couldn't go with them if they continuously antagonized their father, goaded him into attacking them and into hunting them. He can't live like that nor did he want to. Darren tiredly wondered if they already knew that and figured speaking as if it were not true was just to make themselves feel better about helping their father serve his debt to Ra's Al Ghul…albeit indirectly helping. But before he could say anything and without meaning to, he was asleep.

* * *

Darren woke again to the smell of food. It filled the room with a heavenly aroma…but his stomach didn't even growl like it normally would, and instead of feeling the anticipation of eating a good meal he only felt sick from the smell in the room. That's how diminished his usual appetite was…that's how little food he'd managed to eat and keep down. That's what his time in that dungeon had done to him. Upon seeing him awake Joesph held out a bowl of soup to him, Darren grimaced at it…remembering the broth they tried to feed him at the fortress. It had kept him alive but his stomach rolled at the sight of it. Despite his initial disgust Darren swallowed it all anyway. Moments later though he upchucked it all while trying to ignore his brothers concerned glances. He needed food…he needed sustenance…he needed vitamins and nutrients but the attempted Electrum formulas were still affecting him,

"We can get more food on the road," Grant said in an attempt to push back their worry, "I have the car outside, we can go now," Darren sighed, looking away from his brothers regretfully before saying,

"Drop me off at the nearest pay phone,"

"Why?" Grant demanded, his expression darkening,

"Because I'm not going with you," he said it simply, bluntly. It was what he decided…perhaps it was wrong to say that, to do that, after all they had done for him—what they suffered while he was stupidly dogging after their father's attention and affection—it needed to be done though. He couldn't stay with them. He just couldn't. Joesph looked on sadly, seemingly unable to sign a response. He, at least, knew it was coming,

"We're not him," Grant growled,

"I _know_ that, but…I, I can't live on the run," Darren answered, trying to sit up properly despite being cocooned by the blankets of the bed,

"You already _are_ …you have been," Grant argued back. Joseph stood wringing his hands out, biting his lip as if debating whether to stop this brewing argument or take part of it,

" _No_ I _haven't._ I've been in a _home_ …I have a roof over my head…I have friends, I'm getting an education…I _can't_ be on the run, driving from state to state, and going country to country for the rest of my life. I can't live like that because the Court and the Powers could always get me back easily with the government out searching for me or something. I _need_ to be there for this court date…and I need to look healthy…I need to look _alive_. I can't do that on the run from assassins. I _need_ to go home! I _want_ to go _home!"_

'He needs time…away from us…we, we made this happen too,' Joesph signed to Grant, who looked away back to Darren,

"We _didn't_ know…you _know_ we didn't know!" Grant's voice cracked, the only instance Darren could remember of his brother showing any kind of emotion other than anger. It hurt that he was the cause of such a change in his brother. He didn't want to hurt them, but knew in a way he was. Still he pushed on,

"I _do_ …but…he won't be able to get to me in Gotham…not easily. Out here with only you and limited resources protecting me, I can't face him, not yet and not like this, not again…not so soon after finding out the truth… _please_ , I need to go _home_ ," this time it was Darren's voice that cracked with emotion. Grant sighed defeated, his eyes on the carpeted floor, yet when he looked back at Darren it seemed he understood the truth of their situation,

"…Fine, we'll…we'll drop you off at the nearest payphone…then we'll try and lead them away from you…if they got whiff of our trail already we'll be able to keep them off your back before they realize you're not with us…but, you _will_ keep in touch," Grant growled, handing him a piece of paper with a cell number on it, "It's high time we stop letting Slade get between us siblings," Darren couldn't help but grin in agreement.

* * *

Grant and Joey left as soon as Darren was in front of the nearest payphone. He watched as the truck they rented pulled away, the hood of his new coat pulled up over his ears against the sudden wind in the air. It was cold. Very cloudy and very cold still. His breath danced in the air before him as he stumbled into the little tiny glass box. His hands shook as he put four coins into the little slot in the corner. His knees were weak and the world spun slightly as he dialed the home number. He pressed his forehead against the glass, ignoring the chill that shuddered through his body. The freezing air crept through into the payphone…or maybe it was the remnant coldness from before catching up to him—he still wasn't over being frozen like before. It still had a hold on him and he still wasn't in the warmest place he could be.

Dick picked up after two rings like last time and Darren couldn't help but slump to the ground at hearing his voice after so long. The sound of his voice just took all the strength Darren had right out of him. He almost didn't reply for a moment or two before he murmured,

"Dick?" a beat of silence—then,

 _"Darren?_ Where are you! Are you okay?" He continued to babble on but Darren interrupted him, he was losing it, he could feel it…he was weaker than he thought, darkness was setting in,

"I—I—I'm alive…I, I—can you please come and get me? _Please?_ I, I really want to come home," he turned so his back was against the glass wall, the phone's cord pulled to it's limit,

"What happened? Where are you…do you know where you are?" He sounded panicked…cold set in, Darren could feel it in his bones, his mind was shutting down like before…his limbs turning to lead as he crumpled in on himself and stiffened like a statue, "I'm in Alaska…find me…" Was he managed to get out before freezing completely.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys! Hope you liked this chapter! I know it's a bit shorter than some other chapters have been but it's content is still great! I would really like to hear what you think about this chapter, how the story is going. What do you not like? I'm really lacking with feedback and would really appreciate some reviews!

Thanks for reading! Next chapter on Thursday please please please REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: I AM SOOOO SOOOO SOOOOO SORRY! I forgot about the chapter for this week! I can't believe this happened, I tried so freaking hard to be consistent and this happens! :O

I woke up today with a headache and I felt sick and I had literally no voice and on top of that I had to wake up at ass o'clock for my 8 am AND to pick classes for next semester. And let me tell you readers, picking classes for college is like the academic Hunger Games. Because everyone wants the classes you want and if you're at my college you are assigned a day to pick classes based how many credits you have. So if you're a Freshman, you're screwed; if you a Sophomore like me, you're semi-screwed. I was pissed this whole day and now I have random ass classes on my schedule for next semester because any class is better than no classes at this point.

Sorry...I'm venting...here's the chapter! Sorry for the wait!

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 30

Livia approached Wayne Manor, her grimoire tucked under one arm. She looked apprehensively up at the massive stone mansion. Covered in vines with elegant windows, granite balconies and too many chimneys for only just five residents. She still couldn't get over its grandness even though she'd been there before. It towered over her, but the high reaching roofs didn't make her feel threatened. It was welcoming, she liked the manor and it's elegant structure. She was an architect, she appreciated every column, arch, stone balcony and carved statue. Livia mentally measured the dimensions in her head deciding, if she ever could, what she would do differently.

Thoughts of renovation aside, Livia marched to the door and knocked. She'd figured her psychometry could help her find—whoever—was missing that the Bats needed to find, but it required something the missing person had touched. On the off chance it didn't work she'd searched through her book for hours a day in search of a location spell. And although she found one, the spell required certain items for it to even work.

This moment was surreal, it struck her as such a strange transition. She had gone from being uncomfortable with he idea of masked vigilantes taking down criminals to being their friends and trying to help them with their investigations. After a moment or two of waiting she knocked again, no one answered. Frowning she unlocked the door herself and stepped into the house. It seemed empty but she figured they all must be in the batcave, thankfully Tim helped her figure out how to get into it, even if it technically wasn't willingly. She couldn't help what she read from his mind…she hadn't found that part of the book yet.

As she descended the stairway into the cave, another marvelous architectural feat, no one noticed her. Everyone was speaking over one another, seemingly trying to do one thing and another, then something else at the same time. It was odd seeing them so disorganized…though from what Darren said they do get a tad overprotective of their own and then tend to get testy with one another as a result,

"What's going on?" She questioned, her voice echoing louder than she thought it would. Silence followed sharply as everyone snapped around to face her,

"Livia!" Stephanie squeaked, Tim sighed tiredly and looked over to Batman—Bruce Wayne, the one who started this all—,

"Let me explain… _please_ ," Livia didn't even feel guilty as the two of them walked off to talk, Batman's expression was thunderous, and while she appreciated Tim's silence on her behalf—it proved he was a loyal friend—it wouldn't do him any favors when dealing with Bruce,

"What is going on?" she demands again, eyeing the others who surrounded the batcomputer and cyber desk,

"We're trying to figure out where Crowne is. He was taken almost two weeks ago. The Court nor the Powers have anything to do with it and we're in a race to find him before they do," Damian—the youngest of the group, he was _Robin_ —monotoned. He clearly just assumed she already knew everything…which she kind of did, "We couldn't find him at all, it was like he vanished without a trace,"

"I _knew_ it!" Livia hissed, "I am going to kill Tim for lying to me. I specifically asked if this was about Darren and he said it wasn't…you too _Stephanie!"_

"We couldn't get you involved…we didn't want you to get hurt. You aren't one of us," her blonde friend replied,

"Clearly she is _something_ if she managed to get down here," Barbara— _Batgirl_ , and the Commissioner's daughter. He knew nothing of her nightly activities as far as anyone knew and as far as he let on—said, looking pointedly at Steph,

"She can read minds," Stephanie retorted, a defeated look on her face,

"And I _can_ probably find Darren. Had I'd been told earlier who this investigation was for, I could have found this faster," Livia stated, "I'm a magician… _witch_ …magic user…whatever you want to call it…I can help you find him. I just need something he has an attachment to…something he's held or cares about,"

"Oh, I got just the thing!" Dick—Nightwing, the first Robin and now the mirror to Renegade—exclaimed before sprinting upstairs, eager to find his cousin. All that was missing was Red Hood—Jason Todd, the second Robin and the only person she knew to come back from the dead—according to the others, he was out searching for information his _'own way.'_ Whatever that meant it was clearly not pleasant,

"So you know Darren?" Barbara asked,

"Yeah…we're friends," Livia said, giving the woman a small smile, which she returned with a hint of slyness within it. They were all handling her knowing their identities really well…or maybe they were hiding their distrust behind false smiles. Although maybe they thought her usefulness outweighed whether or not they trusted her. She couldn't tell and perhaps she didn't want to. Dick came back down holding a small stuffed little monkey,

"Oh my God, this is the cutest thing ever!" Livia gushed, taking the animal from Dick and closing her eyes in concentration,

"Yeah…uh…don't tell him I gave you that to use," he said sheepishly. Livia ignored him, instead focusing on using the imprint Darren left on the animal for her psychometry to track. She saw a few images—a van, crumpled into a heap in a pile of snow…stars through a barred window…a dingy motel and finally just darkness and the feeling of intense cold, something so cold that she shivered herself—with a gasp she opened her eyes,

"Well did you find him?" Damian asked, his expression one of distrust, she didn't know much about him but it was clear to her he was a short stack of steaming and unyielding judgement. Darren said his bark was worse than his bite…but that might only be because Damian's bite wouldn't actually hurt him,

"I saw where he was…but no sign or anything with a specific location. It seems to me he's someplace really, really cold," she frowned wishing she could be more help…maybe this would get them to Darren's general location…or perhaps the other spell she found in the book would be of better use,

"That's not good," Barbara murmured, "He doesn't do well in the cold, he'll freeze," Livia didn't know that much about Talons, she wanted to ask but felt it wasn't the appropriate time to play catch-up…not when Darren was in trouble. She could search through their minds intentionally to find the information she sought, but felt it was wrong…it was an intrusion and doing it by accident was one thing, doing it on purpose was another. It was something she wouldn't do, not unless absolutely necessary…no matter how tempting it was,

"And that's not helpful at all, we already know he's someplace cold…we _know_ he's in Alaska…we just don't know _where_ in Alaska," Dick muttered,

"Wait…you know what state he's in? I can find him then. Get me a map of Alaska, a pin and four candles," Livia stated, thumbing through her book as the rest of them hurried to gather the items she required,

"You don't have to do this," Tim said coming over, looking over at Bruce who regarded her cautiously. Clearly he managed to talk the older man down form kicking her to the curb outright. It wasn't like she was asking to become one of them, she just wanted to help when asked and Tim _had_ asked,

"I want to," she replied shortly, staring up at Bruce as he eyed her,

"You kept this secret," he said it simply, the slight darkness of the cave encasing him in shadows…something that was clearly supposed to intimidate her. It would have been more effective if he were Batman not Bruce at the moment, and if she didn't already know who he was under the cowl,

"I used it as blackmail to keep _my_ secret," she found herself correcting him,

"Then I guess we're mutually blackmailing one another," the Dark Knight murmured, a small tug of his lips that almost seemed to be a sense of approval,

"If that's how you want to see it," she replied shrugging. Her secret might get her grounded for a while…but her father couldn't change who she was down to the bones even if it did alert whomever had it out for her family that she had magic, other lives were at stake for the Bats if their secrets got out.

Livia then, turning from Bruce and Tim—who still looked like he'd come from a metaphorical bear fight and was probably grounded or something—took the map and candles from Barbara and Stephanie. Damian stomped over to his father, glaring at her as he did so. It seemed he did not like her nor was he swayed by his father's trust in her, she didn't care. She had work to do. Livia set the map down, lighting the candles placed at each of the cardinal points: North, East, South and West,

"What's the pin for?" Dick asked, handing it to her. Wordlessly she took his hand and stabbed it with the pin,

"Ow," Dick muttered,

"I need the blood of a relative," she replied simply, letting it drip onto the map, he didn't complain as she put her hands on the edge of the table and closed her eyes in concentration once again. Silence followed, only broken by the bats above and then Damian, his voice snapping loudly into the silence,

"Are we really going to rely on _her_ …on _magic_ …to find one of our own?" he hissed. Livia looked up at him darkly,

"For someone who's grandfather lived as long as he has through the use of the Lazarus Pits…I'm sure at least _magic_ is somewhat believable to you," she snapped, before nodding at the map and the path the blood was tracing thinly along roads and highways before pooling at one specific spot, "See, it _worked_ ,"

"Anchorage, let's go… _now_ ," Batman growled.

* * *

There was an almost nervous sort of energy buzzing in the air around the occupants of the Batwing. They didn't know what to expect, they didn't even know why Darren would be in Alaska or why Slade would drag him all the way there on a supposed rescue mission and then leave him. It was wrong for one and suspicious…Darren didn't sound so good over the phone call and it was cut short by _something_. Everyone was silent as they flew through the air. Each person lost in their own thoughts and readying themselves for a fight should they face one. It was an instinctive thing to do, it was something they couldn't help as they prepared themselves for the worst. That was the nervous energy, nerves in the face of the unknown and everyone trying to make the unknown known…or at least somewhat predictable.

Though to be fair Dick wasn't helping. He paced the length of the plane almost humming with energy and anticipation…practically vibrating with it all. His cousin needed him and he was too far away. Now they were getting there, now he would be there for him…but it seemed he'd always be too late. No one snapped at him to stop, they understood his anxiety…they were all feeling it as well.

He leapt out of the Batwing before it completely landed as soon as they arrived at the small secluded area Darren supposedly resided. Livia, though she was a surprise and unexpected by everyone other than Tim and Stephanie, was accurate in her spell casting. Tim had explained, after the attack on the school when Darren stormed off, who she was and why Darren had taken an… _interest_ …in her, though neither of them expected her to be such a useful ally. Dick himself didn't anticipate her knowing anything about them or even trying to contact them about Darren. Bruce couldn't do anything about her, he had to accept her because she knew each of their identities and she could reveal them easily if she needed to. Not that she would, she was friends with Tim, Stephanie and Darren, but it appeared she thought the threat of her knowledge was necessary. Bruce even seemed to be borderline impressed of that on her behalf and Damian was stewing with rage because of that easily won approval. It was a good threat to hold over them…though she seemed to be a sweet girl and didn't seem keen on using it against them, it was still up in the air though and everyone would rather have a magician as an ally than an enemy.

As soon as his feet hit the snow, he glanced around until he spotted a payphone stall and a dark figure within it. Without thinking he sprinted over and yanked the door open to find Darren, curled up over himself as if trying to stave off the cold even though it was clear he was frozen like any Talon would be in this kind of weather. But what stopped Dick in his tracks, even as the others arrived around him, was how frail he looked…how _sickly_. They knew nothing of what had happened to him while he was missing. They knew he'd been with Slade but what had caused _this?_ Surely it wasn't Slade, surely even Deathstroke the Terminator couldn't have done anything to his own son that made him this—frail, weak…sickly…no other words could be used to describe the condition his cousin was in. Darren looked severely skinny. He'd always been lean, but still corded with strong defined muscle, now it was as if he were near skin and bones…skinner than he'd ever been. He could see it by how badly the coat he wore fit him and how the skin on his face seemed drawn and pulled over his cheekbones. He was a _Talon_ , they used food as energy for their strength, speed and healing…it was clear he hadn't been getting enough of it.

Seeing Darren like this destroyed him…he should have _seen_ this coming…he should have _known_ that Slade would pull something like this…but all the same he knew this wasn't Slade's doing, at least not entirely. One thing that man could never do is directly hurt his own children. He'd pin them against one another, he'd make them fight one another and hate each other, he'd yell at them, he'd use them if he had to or needed to but he would not hurt them…not by his own hand and especially not to the degree Darren had clearly been abused. It wasn't his style…and as much as Dick hated the man he knew this was not completely his fault—but he didn't prevent it either. He didn't try and stop this, not one little bit. And because of that Dick vowed once again to never let Darren near his father, no matter how badly Darren wanted to get to know him.

Rage filtered through his moment of stunned shock and despair, followed by a sense of clear concise focus. They needed to move and find out what else was wrong with him as well as what had happened. Dick let go of his frustration and anger and worry and he found it in himself to carefully pull Darren out of the phone booth to carry him back to the plane,

"We need to get him warm," was all he said to the others, they too looked stunned at the condition of their family member. Stephanie had a hand over her mouth, her light brown eyes wide. Barbara had a deep frown and an almost protective glare in her eyes and stride as she followed him back to the plane.

Tim stood silently on the ramp to the Batwing, a glare plastered on his face. Dick could almost imagine him calculating how many calories it would take to get Darren back to where he was, how much training and time…and how much little time they had to do it all within. The trial was in April, it was January, early January but still…that wasn't much time. Bruce's expression was the eye of a storm. Calm and neutral but trembling with destructive rage and calculated planning as well. Damian glowered, his dark grey eyes narrowed at the sight of Darren.

They were all angry…but mostly they were worried. They had no idea what happened to him, they had no idea what else he'd been through or who had caused it…or what kind of state Darren would be in when he came back to them, "We need to go now. We need Alfred ready for him," Dick said, his voice yet again surprisingly calm, even as he trembled out of worry and fear and relief that his cousin was okay. he was _alive_ —without meaning to, unwillingly, his thoughts flashed back to the moment William had snapped Darren's neck, how the life just left his eyes and he shuddered slightly—he could only feel relief at not seeing that happen yet again. Dick shook his head, refocusing himself, Darren was home. Worse for wear and in need of medical attention but he was home once again. And he'd never leave against his will again.

* * *

A/N: Again, so sorry this was late, time got away from me. But here is the chapter! I hope you liked it. I want to apologize if Bruce seemed a little OC at the beginning of this chapter. I tried to explain why he so readily accepted Livia knowing their secret in the second half, but I don't know maybe it fell a bit short. I made Damian more distrusting than Bruce...which is kinda weird...but again I tried to explain it the best I could.

Please REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! I really would like to know how I am doing! I am missing all your comments, questions and ideas! I need to hear them people! I really want to hear everything as well.

Next chapter on Thursday! I will make sure it's bright and early...okay maybe not that bright and early because it's Thanksgiving here in America and I will be on break, sleeping in for once on a Thursday. But I will definitely post the chapter earlier than I did this week.


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: Writing update! So I am on chapter 39, and I'm going to write some more this week while I'm on break. I'm hoping to actually finish this story over break and then start on the next segment of this series but it really depends on how much time I'm going to spend with my family and cousins because they are coming up for Thanksgiving. I'll try to write and finish this but I also may not. Thankfully I'm well enough ahead that even if I don't finish I'll still have chapters to vote without problems.

I think this story will be about 40 - 42 chapters long either including or not including the epilogue. Once I finish and post the epilogue I'll probably take two weeks[maybe two and a half depending on how often I find time to write] to start getting ahead in the third story and then start posting that.

I'll keep you all posted on stuff like this. Without further ado here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 31

Darren was aware of warmth, a heat that was almost too much to be comfortable. It was a calming sort of heat though and one that meant he was somewhere inside, away from the cold of Alaska. His calming peace splintered into a panic as he realized he didn't know who was with him or where he was. Slowly, as his senses came back to him, he could hear people whispering to one another. He could hear the scuffing of their shoes and the tapping of feet on metal. Where was he? _Where was he…who was he with?_ He took a deep breath, one that caught in his throat as panic snuffed it out and he tried to move. Darren was cocooned in something yet again to keep him warm. Panic worsening at the thought of yet again being contained, he tore it off of himself and rolled from the table he was on, his knees slamming harshly onto the metal as he landed on all fours,

"Darren!" a voice called out, "Darren, hey, _hey_ …calm down, you're _safe_ , you're _okay_ ," a hand reached from him but Darren scuttled away from them. Stumbling over his feet until he slammed his back into the nearest wall. He blinked the grit and blurriness out of his vision to see Dick standing before him, with Barbara and Stephanie nearby. Tim and Damian stood off in the corner of his vision and Batman was probably at the controls of the plane. He was in the _Batwing_ …he was going _home_ , they had _found_ him,

"Darren…you're okay, you're safe now," Dick said softly, stepping forward like he was approaching a caged animal. Darren took another deep breath, his mind flashing through everything that had happened over the past however many weeks…he didn't even know how long he'd been taken for, he didn't know what day it was. He took another breath, he was not okay…not in the slightest. Another breath, the room spun slightly, his panic had dulled slightly but had depleted any strength he'd gained from the well needed rest he got even if it was gained from when he'd been frozen. He stumbled and put a hand to the side of the plane. His mind still processing everything…remembering everything,

"You were right," he croaked, it just slipped out of his mouth…his voice sounded pathetic in his ears,

"Right…?" Dick questioned, his hand still outstretched. Darren then noticed that their masks and cowls were off…they were trying to show him that they were the people not the masks at the moment. They—Dick, Barbara, Damian, Stephanie and Tim—were there for him, not Nightwing, Batgirl, Spoiler, Red Robin or Robin, "Right about what?" Dick questioned again.

Darren opened his mouth, wondering how he could ever put into words what Slade had done. Just thinking his father's name brought him back to the last time he'd seen him, stepping out of that dark room where Darren had been chained, no regret or remorse on his face after he'd confessed he'd wanted his own son dead. As quickly as the image was there, it was gone, and everything just flooded out of him, unstoppable, unmanageable just everything tumbled out before he could order it into a proper sentence,

"Everything…you were right about everything," Darren warbled, "He…he…he never cared. Not about…all he wanted—wanted to do was use me. That's all he wanted or cared about," his voice got louder and louder as he went and he spoke faster and faster…his hands shaking and the room spinning as he went on, "He…he wanted me _dead!_ He _let_ them _kill_ me, he wanted them to. It was all preplanned…he _wanted_ me dead…he wanted me to _die_ …oh _God_ , he wanted me to die…just, just so he can have a Talon to use as he wished," He probably sounded half-crazed at this point but they all got what he was saying. They stood stunned, all with varying degrees of worry, anger, hatred and confusion written on their faces. They were in the dark on what had actually happened, they didn't even know what seemed to be wrong with Darren other than he was malnourished and had frozen because of the cold.

Darren scratched at the sleeve of his coat, shaking and he once again felt the affects of having a fever, the room spun and his head pounded as he again started talking, "You were right…Dick, you were right. He _never_ cared about me, he only wanted to _use_ me…he wanted me _dead_ , he…he _wanted_ me dead…he _let_ them _kill_ him. Was it worth it? Was it worth it to be right? Are you _HAPPY?"_ Darren was yelling now, "ARe you happy you were _RIGHT?_ Was _THIS_ worth it?" he snarled taking a small step before he slumped forward, unable to keep himself upright anymore as fatigue, dizziness and just utter exhaustion caught up to him. Dick lunged forward and caught him as he fell, turning Darren so he was almost cradling him in his arms on the floor of the plane,

"No," he said simply, "Not when this is the result," Darren remembered when he'd screamed those words at Slade…he'd said those exact words, and his father never answered him. It showed the difference between his cousin and his father. One understood that there was more to family than just control and power, for the other the ends justified the means in his eyes and nothing mattered other than what he wanted or needed,

"He wanted me _dead_...to use, for _others_ to use...he wanted me t-to... _die_ ," the tears finally came, he couln't help it. He was overtired, exhausted, half-starved and sick,

"I know Darren…," Dick murmured, pausing for just a moment to wipe away the tears as they fell, "You need to rest. You're _safe_ now, you can _sleep_ ," Darren hadn't properly slept in a long time. He'd always been half-awake waiting and dreading for the door to open, or up half the night vomiting because of the injections and the food he couldn't hold down…but now, now he closed his eyes and let sleep come to him. He let them pick him up and wrap him back up into the heatsheets and they laid him back on the table under specialized heating lights installed to combat hypothermia…he let the tiredness overcome him and for the first time in weeks he relaxed. He let the nerves and paranoia and hyperawareness go. He could almost pretend it was any other weekend where he got to sleep in. He could _almost_ , just _almost_ pretend everything was fine and good. The pain from everything was still there and he still had a lot to recover from with not a lot of time to do it in…but still he slept.

* * *

Dick tried to make sense of Darren's outburst…but there were just too many holes, too many unanswered questions. They were all silent as they neared the cave, lost in their own confusion about what had happened over the past two weeks. It was clear the Slade had goaded William into killing Darren by kidnapping him when he ran away. But how could he have known it would be the catalyst for turning him into a Talon? How long ago had this had been planned. Why would Slade _need_ a Talon? And who were the _'others'_ Darren mentioned? Would Slade really pawn off his own son to other people for their own personal vendettas, jobs and missions? Dick let out a snarl of a breath, he needed the answers to understand how everything fit together but those answers are with Darren who may not want to answer them,

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Barbara murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder, "This isn't your fault,"

"I still let it happen," Dick muttered, though he appreciated her sentiment. Tim came into the back of the plane from talking with Bruce,

"I had Alfred send Livia home," he stated, glancing over at Darren as he said this as if making sure he didn't wake up. Darren didn't even stir in his sleep, clearly whatever enhanced senses he had were nonoperational at the moment, "She shouldn't see him like this,"

"And we still have to figure out what else is wrong with him," Damian growled, "He's not healing," the others looked at him confused,

"From what?" Barbara asked cautiously,

"Look," Damian snapped, gesturing to Darren's hand. It shook slightly, even in sleep, "And he has a fever," he pointed to the sweat forming at his temples,

"When has a Talon ever had a fever," Tim mused,

"When they weren't healing from…something," Dick muttered, "How close are we?" he called back to Bruce,

"Five minutes," was the stoic reply. All they could do was wait.

Jason was waiting with Alfred when they landed. He looked pissed that he hadn't been included in the rescue mission, though to be fair it wasn't much of a rescue mission as a pickup…but that didn't really matter much. Dick could see his jaw clench at the sight of Darren as they rolled him down to the Cave's medbay,

"What the hell happened?" he growled, eyeing Darren as he was moved from the metal makeshift bed to a more comfortable one in the Cave,

"We…we don't really know," Dick replied, Jason looked sharply at him before marching over to where Alfred was, Dick hurried after him wondering what he could possibly think he's doing. Jason stared intently down at Darren. Taking in the sweating, the shaking tremors before he reached forward and tugged off his coat. He wore a long-sleeved shirt underneath but Jason just reached for the sleeves and ripped at them,

"Jason! What are you doing!" Dick cried, moving forward to stop him,

"You want to know what's wrong with him? Well it's this," Jason growled pointing to bruises that danced up and down Darren's arm, "He's going through withdrawal," They were injection sites…someone had been drugging him, his fury and worry rose to the ceiling,

"What could do that to a Talon?" Alfred wondered, tracing the blackened veins branching out from the injection sites gently before setting to disinfecting them and bandaging them up—more so that Darren wouldn't have to look at them constantly when he woke up fully,

"Nothing good and nothing _I've_ ever seen," Jason said and he had extensive experience with druggies, all kinds of them. If he didn't know what kind Darren had been injected with they needed to do something to figure it out and fast,

"We need a blood sample," Dick muttered, if they got that they could determine what drugs Darren was injected with they could determine how best to help him,

"We need to hook him up to an IV first," Tim stated, appearing next to Alfred on the other side of, "He needs more vitamins and nutrients before you can get a blood sample…he's also severely dehydrated,"

"Master Tim is right, the rest can wait," the doctor of the family said firmly. He got out an IV drip and moved to apply it when Darren's eyes snapped opened and he tried to twist away from him. Jason and Dick barely caught him before he fell off the edge. They lifted him back on the table as he shouted and twisted and tried in vein to escape them,

"No! _NO!_ No more… _please_ …please _no more,"_ his eyes whirled around widely and it seemed he wasn't all there…he was back wherever he'd been,

"Darren…Darren, _calm down!_ This is _Alfred_ …he's _not_ going to hurt you!" Dick stated, yelling over Darren's cries, "Darren please _stop!"_

"No.. _no more_ …no… _no_ …please… _no more!"_ Darren's struggles lessened as he started to tire himself out but he was still moving too much for Alfred to get a grip on his arm for the IV,

"Dick you need to hold him still…he's not going to let up," Tim said over Darren's yelling, he'd pinned Darren's legs down but was then unable to help with the IV. Dick was seized with uncertainty…he didn't know if that was a good thing to do…but it was also Darren's health on the line so he wrapped an arm around Darren's neck, and grabbed his right arm, holding it out straight for Alfred. Darren struggled once more with even more effort. He tried to turn his head in Dick's grip, he begged for Dick to let him go, he begged for him to stop this, to not let 'them'…whoever they were…do this. It was hard to hear, but still Dick did not let him go,

" _Please_ …let me go…let me go… _let me GO!"_ Darren shouted, jerking in Dick's grasp with so much force Dick worried he'd dislocate his shoulder. Thankfully Alfred finally got the IV needle into his arm, he put a ton of tape and gauze on it so Darren wouldn't try to rip it out and fastened a splint on his arm so he couldn't bend it and dislodge the IV. Then he added a sedative so Darren would relax and sleep. Darren struggled and yelled even as the effects of it took place. His yelling slurred and his eyes slumped closed and he grew limp in Dick's hold. With a sigh of relief Dick placed Darren back on the bed and took a step back. Stephanie and Barbara had gone home and true to Tim's word Livia was not there to see Darren in such a state but he was sure she'd root through Tim's or Stephanie's mind for answers on what happened while she was gone…she seemed like the kind who would satisfy her curiosity herself rather than ask about it,

"Whatever happened it had to have been bad," Tim stated,

"Perhaps not physically…but mentally…," Alfred mused, stopping as he readied the blood sample they were going to take now that Darren was asleep. Dick brushed back some of Darren's disheveled hair, he still shook and sweat as the fever tore through him and the withdrawal symptoms affected him,

"Hey…I think I know how to find out what happened," Jason said. He'd been rooting through the pockets of the coat Darren had on. They all looked to him, who held up a piece of paper,

"What is it?" Tim questioned, raising an eyebrow skeptically,

"His brothers were with him," Jason replied, "This is Grant's phone number," without further explanation, he dialed it. Dick and Tim shared a glance…wondering what involvement Grant and Joseph had in Darren's current condition. If Slade was willing to let this happened…how much did they know and how much did they let happen as well,

"Hey asshole, start talking now. What the shit happened to Darren?" Jason growled darkly into the phone, "And you better be honest or I swear to God I will kill you both again," Alfred drew blood while Dick and Tim waited for Jason to get off the phone. He paced, looking agitated as he hissed replies into the cell. Finally he hung up and seemed to almost want to throw his own phone at the wall,

"Demon Brat! Get your ass in here!" Dick and Tim shared another look, what does Damian have to do with anything. Damian who had been sparring with his father, meandered into the medbay with Bruce behind him, a glare on his face,

"Don't call me that _Easy to Kill Robin_ ," the two glared at one another clearly lost in their hatred of each others nicknames before Damian spoke again, "What is it Todd?"

"Did you know there was a League of Assassins fortress in Alaska?" Dick frowned at that. They knew of a fortress there, but it hadn't been used in—possibly literal—ages. Tim's expression darkened, though it was clear he was deep in thought…trying to make connections with very little information,

"There is a fortress there, but it was decommissioned," Dick stated for Damian, "What does this have to do with anything?"

"Oh no," Tim said suddenly. Shock and a little anger on his face, "Oh no…that can't be it,"

"What? What is it?" Dick demanded, "What does an abandoned League of Assassins fortress have to do with—oh… _oh no,"_

"Oh _yes_ ," Jason growled, he started pacing his agitation getting the best of him,

"What?" Damian demanded, looking around, disgruntled as to what everyone else knew that he didn't,

"What does your dear old granddad want more than anything?" Tim asked,

"World domination?"

"Second to that?" Tim rolled his eyes this time,

"My father as his heir?"

"Third to that idiot,"

"Shut up—,"

"—To live forever," Bruce answered for Damian, his voice dark and monotoned. They all looked over at Darren who in essence _would_ live forever,

"He was trying to replicate the Electrum formula…and rather than steal it from the Court he decided to take it from a living—well _undead_ —Talon, and Slade was the one who gave him the idea. Ra's resurrected Grant and Joesph with the Lazarus Pits and in return he wanted Electrum. Slade couldn't give him that so he _told_ him about Darren…he and Ra's…they planned for Darren to become a Talon from the beginning," Jason growled, _"That's_ why he was in Alaska…that's why the injection sites are there and that's why they look like that. They were testing the new creations on him,"

"That's why he's so malnourished then…the fake formulas were making him too sick to hold anything in," Tim stated, a frown marring his features,

"And they tested new ones consistently on him…which made the effects worse on him," Dick guessed, "How long until the formulas are out of his system?…We don't know how long ago they escaped,"

"It couldn't be that long ago if they were in Alaska…it's winter and gets very cold very quickly," Bruce stated, his face dark and angry,

"We'll be able to tell with the blood sample. Right now we need to get him upstairs and somewhere comfortable," Alfred stated, "There's not much else we can do until the symptoms die down and his fever breaks. I say once his healing factor starts up again, that's when we take him off the sedative and try getting him back to eating…the rest will have to wait," They all nodded in agreement, Dick moving to lift Darren up while Tim pushed the IV stand with them as they moved,

"We'll set up Red Watches," Bruce stated, "While I find out how keen Ra's will be on getting what he wants…and how far he got," he looked to Damian as he said that who nodded in agreement as they turned to the Batmobile. They'd pay Ra's a visit, and it definitely wouldn't be a pleasant one,

"I'm going with you. I know Ra's and the League just as well as Demon Brat. And I know… _no killing,"_ Jason growled in exasperation to Bruce's glare at him,

"Well to be fair if Ra's did succeed they'd all be Talons now so killing them wouldn't really be killing someone who's alive," Tim stated,

"Tim! Don't say that while Darren's right here!" Dick growled down at him,

"Are you kidding? He's knocked out on sedatives, he can't hear a thing!"

"Boys, just get him upstairs please," Alfred called up to them as he cleaned up his supplies, warning in his voice. Dick and Tim shut up and the other three left the cave. They'd get to the bottom of this and hopefully Darren would fully recover, mind and body.

* * *

A/N: If there's a weird gap between two paragraphs it's because there was this weird thing that made one of the entire paragraphs italicized if I put it in a certain spot, so sorry about that. I hope it didn't take away from the chapter as a whole.

I also felt that perhaps Damian was a little OC in this scene. I know he's smarter than that but I kinda wrote how he acted the way I did to add a little humor to a serious situation. Perhaps it didn't work or it read badly but I tried and apologize if it's bad.

Also, yay parallelism between Dick and Slade? XD

Oh, and heatsheets are what they give marathon runners after they finish the race in case anyone was wonder. They basically look like giant sheets of aluminum that keeps heat in.

Hope you liked this chapter! I'd really appreciate some more reviews on your thoughts and opinions on the story! And your ideas on what is to come!

Next chapter on Thursday, Happy Thanksgiving for those who are celebrating it and please REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: Okay...so I didn't write as much as I wanted to over Thanksgiving break...there was a lot to do and a lot of family to do it with, but still got some writing done! Here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 32

They kept making him sleep. He didn't want to. He felt like he was wasting away into nothing as the tremors wracked through him and the fever made him feel like he was suffocating and dancing back and forth between hot flashes and cold flashes. He could feel the tug of the IV they forced into him every time he pulled it out as he twisted under the sheets they kept pulling up to his chin. He could feel the sweat drip down his face even as the person sitting next to him dabbed at it occasionally with a cool towel.

Red Watches passed, he couldn't tell how much time had passed, but it felt like eons. One day it was Tim, tapping a pencil on his knee as he worked on school work, or it was Dick who would read out loud as if Darren was conscious enough and not constantly bombarded by nightmares to hear him. Someone new, a person who hadn't ever sat by his side while he was injured before, would cart a hand gently through his hair humming as she did so. He figured it was Barbara, he'd heard Stephanie sing and it was not so melodic. Even Jason sat with him, a beer or something of the sort in hand. He'd crumple the can, pausing after he did so to make sure Darren hadn't stirred before opening another or probably reading a book himself. He appreciated it, and knew it was a necessary thing to do, but he wanted it to stop.

He felt terrible, and they kept making him sleep. They kept forcing him back into his own mind and back into his own dreams. Memories surfaced and dreams he hadn't dreamt in so long filtered through his fractured consciousness. Every time he woke up from a dream or a memory they'd calm him down and slowly force him back into sleep. He didn't want to sleep…he didn't want to fade away into the recesses of his mind.

He'd see faces glaring down on him. He'd see Ra's grinning down at him like he was a prize he'd won, he'd see Slade sneering down at him as if he were a disappointment, he'd see William before him Serum dagger in his hand and he could almost feel the poison snaking its way under his skin, burning away at his nerves and life—or perhaps it was just the trial Electrum formulas snaking their way out of his system. Puppet strings pulled him this way and that, they'd make him dance and make him do exactly what everyone else wanted. He couldn't escape them, none of them. Ever.

Darren could hear his neck snap: once by William, again by his own father…again and again over and over and over again…the beginning of everything really. His second life, his constant fear of the Court and now the League of Assassins wanting his blood to make more Talons for them to use. A kaleidoscope of moments, faces, events everything that he's ever experienced and hated or wished he could forget brought to the forefront of his mind just because of his condition…of the reasons he was where he was. And he was sick and tired of it all. He was sick of being everyone's puppet to pull one way then another, to praise and ridicule and use.

Darren gasped awake, flinging himself forward despite the wave of dizziness that followed. The remnants of a nightmare fading as he blinked around the darkened room. Tim looked back at him, startled, before moving to get up and get Alfred to put him under yet again,

"No! Please…please Tim. Please don't make me sleep anymore," Darren murmured, running a hand over his face. Though he'd slept for days probably, he still felt tired, "I…I don't think I can take the nightmares anymore," Tim frowned, but sat back down,

"Your eyes…they're finally _gold_ again. I was going to tell Alfred that," Darren looked at Tim suspiciously,

"And you won't put me back under?"

"Not unless you won't sleep," Tim stated, reminding him that he was still ill and needed to rest, "Since you're healing we can focus on getting you more energy to heal with," Darren tried not to grimace at the prospect of eating food once again, he wasn't so sure it was as easy as that but he let Tim get up to tell Alfred that he was finally healing on his own.

In the darkened room Darren looked down at his hands, they still shook ever so slightly, but it was growing less and less as he sat there. He curled them into fists and slumped back down onto the pillows. He then glanced around the room, though his Talon healing abilities were functioning once more his other abilities weren't quite all there. He had no strength and certainly no speed and his hearing as well as his eyesight weren't where they had been. They'd come back in time but right now he could barely make out the room he was in. It wasn't the one he'd been staying in. It was a different one. With a window instead of a balcony…the reasoning was obvious. So Slade couldn't visit anymore…at least not if Darren kept the window locked which he would. Darren was grateful they thought of that. It would keep him from having to explain everything to them, he wasn't sure he was ready to do that and from how they were treating him it seemed they knew mostly what happened and what was wrong with him as it was.

He flopped back onto his pillows, staring up at the ceiling still slightly drowsy from the sedatives. Perhaps he metabolized things very fast but it still took him a bit to shake certain sedatives off completely. He lay there, for the first time in a while completely at ease. He was home, he was safe…he didn't have to worry about anything. He stopped Ra's from using any kind of Electrum Formula…he'd virtually saved the world by doing just that. Darren turned onto his side, looking out the window. It was still dark out, probably the early morning hours. He felt slightly bad for Tim because if he had school that day he'd be insanely tired…it was a good thing he liked coffee so much, it would get him through the day or at least that's what Darren hoped. He hated being a burden to people. He hated when he relied on others so much, yet there he was waiting for someone to take care of him once again. With a sigh he let his eyes close, wondering what was taking Tim so long only to realize that perhaps the Butler had been asleep. Darren clenched his teeth together at that, what a problem he was, waking people up so early.

He let out a long sigh, his eyes still closed and tried to think calming thoughts. Worrying wouldn't do him any good and fretting over the fact that he was still unwell and needed a doctor wouldn't do any good either. So he stayed there on his side, eyes closed, taking deep breaths to steady himself. Whether it was because he was still feeling the effects of the sedative or because he was indeed still tired and exhausted…Darren fell right back to sleep.

* * *

Hours later Darren found himself staring at a plate of food. It smelled delicious, Alfred had made him homemade tomato soup with two slices of grilled cheese to dip in the bowl. Usually there'd be a pile of grilled cheese slices for him to eat. Now…there was only two. It seemed pale in comparison to everything he'd eaten before, but now it felt as if he couldn't even eat that. He swallowed with difficulty and tried not to glance over at Dick—who sat beside him waiting for him to dig in—with a panicked look on his face.

All Darren could do was stare at the food. He couldn't make himself reach for the spoon, or take a bite of the grilled cheese. He didn't want to, all he could think about was how he felt in that dungeon, trying to keep down the food Grant and Joesph painstakingly tried to feed him. He couldn't do it, he couldn't even try. He _wanted_ to eat, he _needed_ to eat, he _knew_ that…but he couldn't reach for the spoon…he just _couldn't_. It was a slightly terrifying moment. He loved food, he still did…but right now…he just couldn't. He couldn't,

"Darren," he turned his head to face his cousin, trying not to look desperate or afraid at his internal unrest, "You don't have to eat all of it," Dick continued, giving him a tight smile. Darren swallowed and looked back at the food on the tray over his lap,

"I'd have to stop you if you did," Dick continued. Eating too much too soon could and would upset his stomach. Neither of them wanted that. Darren nodded slowly, a frown still on his face. He was pretty damn hungry. He was healing, albeit very slowly but he was on the mend. The bruises along his arms were gone, he felt more energetic and his appetite was there, he knew he was hungry and that he needed to eat he just couldn't shake the fear of what eating may or may not do to him. They didn't know if the trial formulas were entirely out of his system and he would not let them take another blood sample to check—at least not yet—so it was hit or miss on whether or not the food would disrupt the process or not,

"We did feed you while you were asleep Dare. We fed you broth and you kept it down…you can eat this. You will be fine," Dick said evenly, shifting slightly in his chair. He vaguely remembered them doing that, it was when he was about to wake up as the sedatives wore off and right before they put him out again. Darren clenched his teeth. He should just do it. He was hungry, he could feel it…he needed to eat and he wanted to eat…he shouldn't be afraid to do so. Darren jerked his hand out and grabbed the spoon dipping it in the bowl and shoving it in his mouth.

Flavor exploded on his tastebuds…and it was so _good_. He'd almost forgotten what good food tasted like. It was delicious. It was perfect. Without stopping to wait and see if his stomach got upset, he took another spoonful, and another and another until Dick put a hand on his arm gently,

"Don't eat too fast…then you might actually make yourself sick. You need to work up to the portions you were used to," Darren nodded a bit sheepishly and continued his eating, but at a slower pace. Silence reigned only broken by the clatter of Darren's spoon and occasionally the glass of water placed on the tray. It was a nice day out. Still really cold out but pleasant. And it was quiet. As of yet, Darren's enhanced abilities hadn't come back yet. And while it was nice to have some piece and quiet rather than constant noise and voices pestering him everyday, it was still worrying him. These were abilities he relied on and needed to survive. Alfred assured him they would return but it would take time much like when he was first rescued from the Court of Owls. He slightly dreaded getting his hearing back, it usually came first and was quite painful because he never expected it to develop when it does, at least that's how it was the first time,

"You know…" Dick started slowly, he paused too, as if considering whether or not he should continue, "If you need to talk…I'm here for you," Darren paused in his eating, an uncomfortable knot forming his his stomach as he glanced at Dick who looked back, blue eyes placating, as if waiting for him to pour his soul out to him. Darren went back to eating, this time even slower than before,

"Darren…I know this is uncomfortable for you…but you really should talk about Ra's—," Darren flinched slightly, letting go of his spoon with a clatter. Both Dick and Darren stared a the spoon before Darren pushed the bowl away from him and to the side, instead reaching for a piece of grilled cheese. He didn't like soup much anyway…too similar to the dungeon food, though much more delicious. He tore a piece off and shoved it in his mouth, savoring the crunch of buttery grilled bread,

"—or about what you went through at the fortress," Darren glared over at Dick as he continued on as if nothing had happened. He knew his cousin was just trying to be there for him, to get him to open up about what he went through because he wasn't very specific on what happened other than he was injected with the trials to see if they were similar to Electrum and he let it happen because his brothers lives were on the line. The delirious days paraded through Darren's mind like a slideshow and he felt his hand shake slightly, the feeling in his stomach deepening,

"I can't…please, don't make me…not yet," he finally mumbled to Dick,

"Okay…you're right…I shouldn't be pushing you," Dick amended, looking slightly guilty. Darren understood why he was doing it, but didn't want to face those memories…not yet…not while he was still recovering from it all. It was all still to close, it happened too soon to talk about without plunging into the memories. Darren ripped off another piece, the cheese dropping back down onto the plate before eating it, a small smile on his face,

"But we should really talk about Slade—," Darren froze at the sound of his father's name, "What he did to you, how he manipulated you…you really—," he knew he meant well, Darren really knew that but he couldn't help but feel utterly terrified at the concept of talking about his father. He flashed back to the last time he saw him…how he realized everything had been planned from the beginning by him and Ra's…how his own father had wanted and needed him dead for a plan to save his brothers at the expense of the safety of the world. How he was a pawn…he, his father, wanted him dead…wanted him _dead_ …he _let_ William kill him. A shudder ran through him and he couldn't help but shake at the thoughts and memories…he felt panic roll through him next and an acute sensation of fight or flight…that almost adrenaline-like feeling the speared right down his spine through to his toes. Nausea followed right after, Darren clapped a hand to his mouth and looked over at Dick with a stricken look on his face.

Dick frowned, not disappointed with Darren but most likely at the direction him trying to get Darren to open up and face what happened to him went. He lurched to his feet and moved the tray off of his legs and pulled a garbage can over to the edge of the bed as Darren swung his feet over the side. Darren vomited up the delicious food into the bin. Dick sat down next to him, the bed dipping slightly at the added weight, and put a hand lightly on his shoulder. He knew Darren didn't like his back to be touched, even with his new view on the scars criss-crossing there and his new tattoo, but Dick also felt that physical contact made everything better, whether it was a simple gesture of a hand on an arm or a hug.

Once Darren had stopped hurling up the contents of his stomach he sat back up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Dick took the bin from him and put it back by the door and turned to face him,

"Dare…I'm sorry—," whatever he meant to say Darren stopped him,

"Can you leave?" Dick's expression morphed from guilt ridden to hurt and Darren cringed, he didn't mean it like that, "I'm sorry it's…it's not you…but, please I want to be alone. I…I'm tired. I just want to be alone right now," Dick let out a sigh, his expression still slightly pained but he nodded,

"Sure…whatever you need Darren. I'm still on Red Watch, but I'll…I'll give you some time on your own," with that he grabbed the tray of food, which the mere sight now gave Darren's stomach a twist of nausea, and the bin before leaving the room. The door closed with an audible click and Darren slouched onto his side, curling in on himself slightly to take slow deep breaths to try and dispel the memories of his father, what he had planned, what he had done to him and his brothers and of his time trapped at the Fortress.

* * *

He shouldn't have done that. Dick really shouldn't have done that. He knew it was a stupid thing to do even as he opened his big fat mouth. But he'd done it anyway, because he couldn't stand to see his cousin just stare at his food, afraid to even eat because of what the failed trials did to his digestive system among other health irregularities such as interfering with his healing and his enhanced abilities. Nothing had come back yet and his healing was not operating as fast as it usually did. He'd been poisoned by a low concentration of the Serum that could kill him if not treated in a timely matter and he healed in less than three days. He'd been back for four, three of them asleep, and he still wasn't fully recovered. He was barely recovered at all and he'd gone and tried to make him talk about it. Darren sounded so defeated afterwards too, so tired and depressed. Seeing him like that and knowing who the cause of that behavior was made his blood boil.

Dick entered the kitchen, a deep frown on his face as he set the tray down on the island countertop. Alfred turned from where he was cleaning dishes at the sound,

"So he did manage to eat most of the meal," the Butler mused, he sounded pleased and Dick cringed a little as he corrected the old man,

"He threw most of it up afterwards," Alfred frowned, "Though I guess I didn't help much with that," he frowned deeper and Dick felt even more shamed by that expression for this than anything he'd ever done wrong before,

"How so?"

"I…I tried to get him to talk about it all," he let out a sigh, "I know I shouldn't have but…I just couldn't stand seeing him like this. This is worse than after we got him back from the Court of Owls,"

"That does not change the fact that it was too soon to try and divulge that information," Alfred chided,

"I just don't understand…he had no expectations for Slade to ever be anything more than a mercenary who would do anything and use anyone to benefit himself and yet he idolized Slade, he put him on this _pedestal_ and just assumed I hated him because of circumstance. I don't know why he'd think so highly of someone who hurt so many, who has disappointed him so many times in just the short amount of time he's known the man and who has intentionally hurt him for his own personal plans. I didn't understand that and I thought that after all this he would realize that Slade is a monster, that he shouldn't have Darren's trust…and I think he knows that but he is so _upset_ …so down…so _destroyed_ by this, by what happened and what he learned. I wanted to know what he thought so I could at least understand it…but I just don't…and there's nothing I can do,"

"Perhaps he said he had no expectations, but deep down I think he still hoped we would be wrong,"

"He's Slade, we'd _never_ be wrong about him," Dick bit back,

"Of course you'd say that, he's not your _father_ ," Dick scoffed,

"Thank God," he muttered, but let the Butler continue,

"Let me put it this way for you. When you were younger, did you initially look up to Master Bruce?"

"Well…no, not really. I mean my parents had just died so…no one could compare to them and Bruce didn't try to,"

"Exactly. You looked up to your father, you idolized him and thought he could do no wrong. But were there moments when he did upset you and disappoint you? Even if you forgave him afterwards?"

"Yeah…but that's just what having parents are like. I was also eight, not many things could anger me for long. And besides they were nothing like _Slade_ ," he was slightly appalled by the thought of them ever being like Slade, he wouldn't have been able to accept it or handle it…and even if he did, he wouldn't have turned out as well as Darren had—though to be fair Slade hadn't raised him,

"I know that, but he is still Master Darren's parent. And after your parents' untimely demise, did you look to Bruce the same way?"

"Not at first…not completely even when I got used to him,"

"There you have it. Slade may not have been an ideal parent or a forgivable one but that does not erase the promise of one, the _potential_. Now that potential has been completely shattered and taken away by tragedy and he is struggling with accepting that change,"

"So…are you saying I'm Bruce in this situation?" Dick questioned,

"Indeed. Master Darren is not angry with you…probably more so at himself and how everything went down, he feels it is his fault. He also doesn't want to let go of the idea that his father truly cares for him even with everything he has done which is why he is so upset by the turn of events and the truth. Of course your situation with your father and Master Bruce are much different and under much different conditions, but when looking for the root of the problem, the two instances are very similar,"

"Yeah…I get it…that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. And that doesn't mean him have issues just _eating_ doesn't bother me,"

"That's probably just psychological," Tim stated. Dick jumped, realizing just then that Tim was sitting at the other end of the island counter with his textbook out writing in his notebook,

"What do you mean?"

"He _can_ eat, he just _thinks_ he can't," Dick raised an eyebrow and Tim rolled his eyes before explaining further, "He was viciously imprisoned and forced to basically be a lab rat for various experimental trials that attacked his health and his abilities. It's probably psychological trauma that's preventing him from eating. We've all been there at some point or another…he'll shake out of it, especially once his abilities come back. He feels helpless right now because they aren't there, they're a part of who he is and without them he's lost and knows that something is wrong with him,"

"Thank you Tim Phd for that enlightening diagnosis," Dick muttered, "What are you even doing in here?"

"Alfred's making cookies," was his response and all that was really needed. It was first come first served in their household,

"I'll take one up to Darren as a peace offering to apologize for being an actual dick,"

"You do that Master Dick," Alfred replied, taking them out of the oven, "He simply cannot refuse a cookie no matter how ill he feels,"

"That's Darren for you," Dick agreed, picking one up despite the heat, and wrapping it in a napkin before heading back upstairs.

* * *

Darren was on his side when Dick walked into the room, cookie in hand. He appeared to be asleep but turned onto his back and glanced over at Dick, his blue-grey eyes wary,

"I'm sorry," he mumbled,

"There's nothing for you do be sorry for," Dick replied immediately, "I on the other hand, do need to apologize," he held up the cookie and ignored the face Darren made at it,

"It's not your fault either, you were…trying to help,"

"I still shouldn't have pushed you," Dick muttered, retaking his seat. He set the cookie on the nightstand, maybe Darren would want it later,

"I know you want me to open up more and talk about…everything…but I can't. Not yet…not now," Silence echoed for a moment, before Dick leaned forward, wondering how to word what he said next,

"I know you don't want to talk, and I do understand that but I'm worried about you. I'm only trying to make you talk to help you because I don't know what you're thinking or feeling. And I don't know how else to help you than by coaxing you to talk to me,"

"Sometimes I don't even know what _I'm_ thinking or feeling myself," Darren muttered, looking up at the ceiling, "I've never really been good at talking about that…I've never done it before so I guess I've never really thought about that," Dick frowned,

"So when you were a child, at the Court…you didn't talk to anyone about anything," Darren shot him a glare,

"It was a compound full of _assassins_ , they don't exactly do feelings. You learn not to let it get to you and you learn to keep to yourself,"

"That sounds lonely, and difficult for a child,"

"You learn," Darren replied shrugging,

"It's also not healthy," Dick stated, a scowl on his face,

"I had Asher. But then I killed him," Dick tried not to wince at the bluntness of his voice. He knew Darren still grieved for his friend's death at his own hands. He was deflecting and trying to antagonize himself, that much was clear,

"That was an _accident_. You didn't mean to kill him and no matter what he was still your only true friend within the Court,"

"I know that, but it wasn't enough to have a _friend_. We were _all_ like that and it was worse if you tried to express anything at all," it was all he needed to say to paint a detailed picture on why it wasn't just that Darren didn't _want_ to talk about his mental state, emotional state or anything at all, he _couldn't_. It was a typical scenario of reinforcement. If the Talons discouraged opening up about emotions or talking about them then the ones they trained wouldn't express such things at all, they'd repress their emotions instead. But once Darren was taken out of that environment, he felt all emotions full force but didn't know how to deal with them. No wonder at times he'd be a nervous wreck and other times entirely emotionless. And no wonder he didn't know what to do with himself once he felt… _anything_ ,

"But it's different now, you know that,"

"I do. But…that doesn't mean I need or want to talk about this. Old habits die hard…you know," Darren muttered,

"I know. What I am trying to say is that when you're ready we'll be there. All of us," he had said it before, many times in fact. But it seemed either Darren forgot or didn't try to approach anyone—not even Jason who could relate more with Darren on most things. Darren was silent after that raising a thumb to his mouth to bite at the cuticle around it, a nervous habit he displayed from time to time. Dick wanted to say something else but couldn't really make up his mind on what to say. Things have changed…he could feel it. Perhaps Tim was right and it would pass, but he felt that something would remain once Darren was back one hundred percent. A remnant of the pain and anger and betrayal he endured. He didn't know what that would be specifically or what that would mean for the future, or for _Darren's_ future. They sat for a few more moments before Dick finally decided to say something when his phone trilled, causing Darren to jerk with surprise,

"Sorry Dare. I gotta take this. I'll be right back," Dick said, a slight smile on his face at his cousin's expression. He got up and moved out into the hallway, closing the door with a click as he left the threshold of the room. He talked with Barbara for a few minutes, setting up a time to meet for dinner before heading back into Darren's room. He appeared to be in the same position as before, only the napkin with a half-eaten cookie laying on his chest this time. Darren was slowly picking it apart and eating it bit by bit. It wasn't with the same enthusiasm or rigor as he usually ate any sweets with but it was something. Dick couldn't help but grin,

"So you were in the mood for a cookie afterall? Am I forgiven?"

"There was nothing to forgive," Darren replied, a ghost of a smile flitting across his face, "Thanks for the cookie anyway,"

"Well. I have to actually go to work, Tim should be up soon for Red Watch but I'll see you—,"

"—Wait!" Darren exclaimed, "Don't leave just yet," he placed the cookie back on the nightstand and shifted so he was hanging off the bed, ruffling underneath it for a moment or two. Dick could hear a floorboard or two creak and briefly wondered how so many loose floorboards made it past Alfred when he realized Darren probably made them himself—something Alfred would be furious about if he knew. When he sat up, he held a messily wrapped box in his hand,

"I…uh…I wasn't there for your birthday this year…or any year at that…but this time…I got you something," Dick sat back down in the chair by the bed,

"You didn't have to get me anything Dare," he said, though he still felt touched that Darren had even considered getting him a present considering he's never celebrated a single holiday or birthday since he was five,

"I wanted to…and it's a meaningful gift," Darren replied, opening the box, "To our family. The Crownes," inside was a set of rings. One was a silver banded circlet, the other gold. Each stamped at the center with the Crowne family emblem, their coat of arms. Each of the founding families had one. Cobblepots, Elliots, Waynes and Crownes alike. Dick stared down at the rings in a stunned stupor, unsure what to do or say,

"It's a tradition in our family, the only tradition we actually have if William is to be trusted—which he isn't really, but that's besides the point—it's a tradition. These rings have been handed down through the generations of Crownes for as long as Crownes have been around. To be honest I have no idea how long our family has been around but…it's a tradition for the two oldest to get these rings. Gold for the oldest, and silver for the second oldest. Since we're the only two left and even though you are a Grayson…and will always be a Grayson…the gold one is yours. You're a Crowne and a Grayson…you're my family and…and you deserve to be a part of our family traditions even if you don't use the name," Dick honestly didn't know what to say, but he reached out and picked up the golden ring, holding it in the palm of his hand,

"I—I don't know what to say," he managed to finally force out, "Thank you…that's all there is to say. Thank you," he slipped the band on and it fit perfectly. He then reached over and pulled Darren into a hug, his lack of desire for physical contact be damned,

"Gak…Dick…can't breathe," Darren croaked and with a chuckle Dick let him go,

"Sorry…I'm just, really honored and happy that you would consider me for this tradition,"

"It's a family tradition, and you're my family. We're the last of the Crowne's and we're the only real family we got. And I'm glad it's you and me," Dick grinned. There were of course Darren's other siblings, but his point was clear,

"I'm glad it's you too. I'll always be there for you…enjoy the cookie…and, try to get some rest," Darren sobered at the reminder of his healing process but nodded nonetheless, a determined expression on his face and Dick felt that perhaps this conversation had helped Darren in some way. Perhaps he'll do better knowing that one side of his family doesn't define the rest of it.

* * *

A/N: I was really happy with this chapter! I think it's really well written. I really hope you enjoyed it as well!

Next chapter on Thursday! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: Sooo, still on chapter 40, but I did start writing it so that's progress. Finals are soon...and I really do need to study. I'll still post though don't worry, this is probably the only thing that'll keep me sane during finals. Though I'm still behind(to me) in my writing. Anyway, here's the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 33

Livia nearly stormed her way through the halls of Gotham Academy. She dodged her way through the crowds of students hanging out in the hallway before their first class, determined to find her target. Her hair blew back from her face and her messenger bag thumped against her side as she turned another corner, eyes searching like a hawk. She was even sure some of the lights flickered as she walked by them, the air around her thick as if a storm were brewing…her magic acting up in response to her agitation. Livia turned one more corner and grinned before pouncing on her victim,

"Tell me!" she growled, shoving Tim as he closed his locker. He gave her a scowl,

"Tell you what?" he asked, picking up his bag which he dropped when she shoved him. Lockers weren't usually used for books. They were mostly used during the winter for coats or for sports equipment, though some did still store books and binders if they wanted to,

"Tell me how he is!" she hissed, "What is going on? What happened to him…what happened in general!" she still didn't know and it had been almost a week. It was _killing_ her. Neither Tim nor Stephanie would tell her anything and she had yet to actually learn how to read someone's mind at will. The power came and went when she least expected it to. When it did act up, she wasn't near the others so she didn't know anything,

"Livia, I really don't think you should know," Tim said carefully,

"Is it that bad?" Livia exclaimed, "Is it because I didn't find the spell fast enough?" Did waiting those few extra days while she found the right spell make everything worse? More damaged? _Irreversible?_

"No!" Tim insisted, "That's not the problem at all…it's ugh…it's more—,"

"—It's more that Darren probably doesn't want you knowing how bad or how _un-bad_ it is," Stephanie said, coming up to the them,

"Are you kidding me? You're not telling me about his condition because of his ego?" Livia spat whirling to face Stephanie,

"To be honest we don't really know the full extent of what actually happened. We know some details and we've deduced others but Darren…he won't say anything. He won't talk about it," Tim stated after a moment or two of intense glaring with Stephanie, they seemed at slight odds on what to tell Livia. The warning bell rung and the three of them started off down the halls, they had five minutes till class formally started. She and Tim had math, while Stephanie had French. Both classes were in a similar direction,

"But he's getting better right?"

"He's getting there," Stephanie said, uneasily,

"That's not an answer," Livia snapped, clenching her teeth slightly. She let out a sigh, she wasn't mad at them…but she felt if she had acted faster things wouldn't have been as bad for him as they were,

"What about…his _other abilities?"_ she dared whisper to the other two. The halls were emptying but she didn't want to risk anyone overhearing her,

"They're not back yet," Tim replied, a deep frown marring his features,

"Is that normal?" Livia glanced dubiously at her friends as Stephanie and Tim shared a look. They seemed to have an almost silent conversation through stares and glares again before Stephanie rolled her eyes and said,

"It's not like he'll know we told her anything," Tim let out a defeated sigh of agreement,

"And it's not like it would really make a difference,"

"Well?" Livia demanded,

"It's not normal. He's been poisoned worse than this and he's bounced back within three days,"

"His healing ability is functioning," Stephanie added, "But his other abilities haven't returned. We're hoping…we're hoping that getting them back will make him more… _enthusiastic_ …about recovering fully,"

"More enthusiastic…what does that even _mean?"_ Livia hissed, Stephanie gave her a grimace and a shrug before turning off to her classroom leaving only her and Tim to walk to math,

"It means he's…not really himself at the moment. He's always been prone to moods but this is different. He's maudlin but won't tell us why or talk to us at all. His mood is darker, less optimistic and he's…quiet. He's never been really loud or extroverted in general…but he was more talkative before he was taken. He's also not eating as much as he should. He keeps throwing up,"

"But that could just be psychological, right?" Livia asked, worrying her lip at the sound of things,

"That's what we're hoping it is…but it just seems like he doesn't want to get better," Livia didn't like the sound of that. This description of Darren didn't even seem like him at all, it sounded like a completely different person,

"Does he know that I know who he is?"

"You told me not to tell him," Tim replied, shrugging,

"Would it make things better if he knew?" Livia asked. Would that piece of information make it easier for him to talk to someone who wasn't family to him? Sometimes that was the case, sometimes friends were better to turn to than family. As the saying goes, the blood of the convent is thicker than the water of the womb,

"I think it might make things worse to be honest," Tim replied, "While he was…gone…he was betrayed by someone. It hit him hard…and learning that someone else has been lying to him might backfire," Livia bit her lip, wishing she had told Darren sooner but there was no way to change that. She wondered who had betrayed him…but figured it wasn't the time to ask and it wasn't something she should know just yet. Darren would tell her on his own…hopefully. They walked in silence for a few moments until Livia accidentally scuffed her shoe on a crack in the tiling and nearly fell over, her books tumbling out of her bag,

"Oh well that's brilliant," she muttered, waving off Tim who reached down to start picking up books, she only held out her hands and willed the books to stack themselves up on her upturned palms. She then slipped them back into her bag with a smile,

"Are you insane?" Tim hissed, pulling her along by the arm with him as they neared their classroom, "What if someone had seen you!"

"What's the big deal?" Livia replied, "What would anyone do? There's enough crazy in this city that magic isn't much of a big deal!" Tim huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes before letting go of her arm,

"All it takes is one idiot in this school seeing you mess around with magic and we'll have the Salem Witch Trials all over again,"

"Oh please, I levitated some books. It happened in a blink of an eye, if someone saw it they wouldn't know anything had even happened. But…I see your point," Livia replied levelly as they entered the room as the bell formally rung. To be truthful though it wouldn't stop her from using little bits of magic throughout the day. Why have a gift at all if you weren't going to use it?

* * *

Darren was currently trying to take a nap. But wasn't really succeeding at it. He'd been sleeping a lot, which was very strange to him. Mostly during the day too which left him up during the night, though for the few hours of sleep he got at night he'd wake up from vivid nightmares and would therefore not sleep that much afterwards. It left him with a very odd and messed up sleeping schedule. He'd been taking more of the sleeping pills Leslie gave him, which have been helping somewhat with that.

Though today he was particularly tired. He was mostly having difficulty falling asleep because in any situation it would be hard to fall asleep with someone sitting next to him, just watching him or reading a book or doing homework or on their phone. No one had paid this much attention to him when he was sick or injured…or both…when he was younger. With the exception of his mother of course, though he never remembered being sick or hurt with her and he didn't know if that was because it never happened or if he just couldn't remember. The thought was sobering to say the least.

Today it was Barbara next to him, she'd gotten off work early for the day and decided to come over for Red Watch. Darren liked having her over, he found it very easy to talk to her, she didn't try and pry into what happened in the days he was with the League of Assassins like everyone else did. And she helped him with his math homework, english homework…and pretty much all of his work. She was like his own private tutor. He was very behind and to be honest he was not having an easy time playing catch-up. But Barbara was kind enough to help.

After a bit of doing work he'd decided to try and take a nap before dinner time. He wanted so bad to get through a whole meal without throwing up. Darren didn't know what was still causing it. He was healing but he was also healing slower than usual…which was distressing and he knew it was stressing everyone else out.

Perhaps his unquiet mind was the reason he couldn't sleep. The thought annoyed him and he tried to silence his thoughts. Barbara turned a page of her book and then took a sip of some sweet smelling tea when Darren suddenly felt strange. It almost felt like his ears had popped…and he didn't know what to make of the sudden and strange sensation when noises suddenly cut in through the feeling of popped ears. Loud and piercing, Darren could suddenly hear _everything_. Voices, car horns, yelling, cars on the freeway, helicopter blades…everything echoed and stabbed into his ears. Darren winced and cried out, clutching at his ears as he rolled over to face Barbara who'd jerked to her feet at the sound of his cry,

"What is it?" she asked, "What hurts?"

"Ears!" Darren gasped, "headphones," Barbara nodded and hurried out of the room to find them. Darren twisted on the bed trying to relieve the invisible pressure and pain of his enhanced hearing returning. It had happened too fast for him to adjust or pull the pounding noise under control, the headphones would have to do. They were big and noise-cancelling. He used them before too, when his enhanced hearing first developed. They muted all the noise and playing some kind of music helped focus his hearing as well.

Seconds later Barbara returned and slipped the pair of headphones over his ears, causing Darren to let out a sigh of relief as the world quieted slightly. He relaxed even more as Barbara turned on some soft playing music for him,

"Is that better?" she asked, her voice no more than a whisper to his ears. Darren nodded, letting out a sigh that he didn't know he'd been holding,

"Thank you," he replied, trying not to yell because his hearing was muffled. Barbara nodded and then grinned, reaching over and gently squeezing his arm,

"You know what this means right?"

"What?"

"You _are_ getting better. You're healing…you're abilities are coming back! I know this was painful but this is still good thing. It means you're recovering. Slower than last time but you _will_ be back to where you were," Darren stared at her for a moment before slowly forming a small grin as well. She was right. He was getting better…his healing ability was truly functioning as it should. His abilities were returning which meant that he _could_ recover. Darren settled back into the pillows, a small grin still on his face, he felt better than he had in a long time.

* * *

"Liv…have you heard?" Allison, one of Livia's other friends at GA whispered to her during her last class of the day. She glanced up at the teacher, who was describing the beginning of the French Revolution up by the board. He was too enthralled in his own mini reenactment that he probably wouldn't hear their conversation. With Allison it was likely to get into a loud retelling of some buzz of gossip or another. She was a major insider, and tried to pull Livia into her secret obsession with all things drama to no avail,

"Heard what?" she hissed back,

"Oh my God, this is going to be great!" Allison practically sang,

"Shhh, this conversation will only happen if you don't get us caught," their teacher was pretty strict about his not talking, texting or passing notes rules…unless of course they needed to talk in groups or during a class discussion,

"Derek Powers is going to ask you to the Spring Formal," Livia blinked at her friend, wondering if she heard right,

 _"What!"_ she exclaimed, much louder than she meant to,

"What was that Miss. Baudelaire?" Their teacher asked, squinting over at the two of them,

"I uh…could you repeat that last part…about the Third Estate?" The teacher nodded apologetically, as if it was his fault for going too fast and she hadn't been only half-listening to him the whole time. Livia turned back to her friend,

"Are you serious?" she asked, a dark frown on her face. What was Powers playing at? She knew most of what Darren had went through living with those pimples of a family…not from just reading their minds…Tim did divulge some of that information himself because she asked how they would get Dick guardianship over Darren when it was pretty much the Powers's alliance with the Court that was the problem. She didn't know how they would convince the courts to let that happen, other than the fact that Dick was his only living relative. Tim had to explain _that_ whole mess.

She hadn't known what kind of people they were—though to be honest the fact that they were members of the Court of Owls in the first place probably should have given her some insight on the type of people they were, but she didn't make the connection until she and Tim talked about it. He was vague and she understood that perhaps Darren would want to tell her on his own time in his own way what he'd went through…if she ever told him she knew who he was and what he did. Livia was worried for him, she missed seeing him at night, she missed talking with him as Renegade _and_ as Darren. His silence was worrying her and making her wonder if she did something wrong,

"Yes, of course I am. I wouldn't lie about this. Why are you making that face? The most popular boy in the school is going to ask you to Spring Formal!" Allison stage-whispered, she was practically bouncing in her seat,

"That's the problem," Livia muttered, biting back her remark that he was only popular because he was one of the richest families at the school, "I barely know him…and on top of that the dance isn't until April. How could you possibly have this information. It's a _farce_ ," Allison rolled her eyes,

"This is GA Liv, we're one of the most prestigious schools with some of the richest people in the city enrolled, we seriously _plan_ for this dance. It's the underclassman version of _Prom_ …so it needs to be _perfect_. Trust me, it's not a farce! He's gonna ask you at your locker after last period!"

"Do I hear whispering!" The teacher called out into the room. Livia clamped her teeth together and forced herself to face forward. Once the teacher turned back to the board she faced Allison once more,

"Well he'll be talking to an empty locker, I don't have last period,"

"What? _Why?"_

"Because I leave an hour early for ballet,"

"That's terrible!"

"No…it's actually quite great," Livia replied shortly with a grin, effectively ending their conversation. Allison pouted for a moment before turning back to her phone hidden on her lap. Livia faced forward and started writing down everything she'd missed.

Derek won't get an answer from her. She'd never go anywhere with him in a million years, not even if she didn't know his parents were a part of an evil secret organization obsessed with power and who has allowed a toxic living environment for someone she cared about. Whether or not this was some kind of planned move by the Owls to get at her for stopping their Talons when they tried to take Darren or if this was somehow to get at Darren, they wouldn't get to her and she wouldn't give them anything. She didn't know exactly what was going on, but she wouldn't enable it or allow them to get her to go along with any plan they schemed.

Livia left that class in a hurry, hoping to leave school grounds before anyone noticed or cornered her. She knew a lot of the popular girls would be pissed if…no when…they heard the rumor. She was just as baffled and pissed as they were, but them interfering or trying to be their petty rich girl selves would not bode well for either Livia or themselves. There was already angered whispering around her that she was sure about Derek choosing her to ask to the dance.

Once she got to her locker she hurriedly opened it and started pulling stuff out of it and pulling on her green jacket—a gift from Darren after he trashed her other one with his blood,

"Why are you packing up, we still have one more class?" A voice asked right by her ear. Livia jumped and slammed her locker door closed to reveal Tim standing right next to her,

"Tim…what the hell! _Don't_ do that!" she wished she had a book to smack him with but she'd put them all away. She didn't even know how long he'd been standing there,

"Sorry…it's a—,"

"—Bat thing," Steph's voice finished, right by her other ear. Livia jumped again with a small shriek,

"I'm going to give you two friendship bracelets with a bell on it, and spell them so you two can never take them off!" She snarled as she pulled on her hat,

"Well as unstylish and unappealing as that is, are you going to answer my question?" Livia sighed and rolled her eyes,

"What is this, question Livia's life day?" she let out a sigh, "Sorry…I'm a little riled up right now. I'm leaving because I always leave an hour early from school,"

"What for?" Stephanie asked,

"Ballet,"

"Wait…you take lessons at the Arts Academy a few blocks from here? Why not just enroll there?" Tim asked,

"Because it doesn't have the math classes I need for the Architecture program at Gotham University or any of the other AP classes I'd have to take to get in," Livia replied, "So I spend the majority of my time here so I get enough credits to formally graduate and take the lessons at the Arts Academy. The headmasters were pretty great about it all,"

"Wow, that sounds complicated and unnecessary,"

"So does dressing up in tights and a cape at night to fight crime," Livia shot back with an eyeroll for extra effect,

"Touché," Tim muttered lowly while Stephanie laughed,

"What are you two even doing here? You're never out and about last period…at least on this day in the schedule,"

"Both our classes are cancelled. Frees!" Stephanie crowed, giving Tim a high-five, "What's got you so riled up," Livia let out a sigh and opened her mouth to reply when a cough sounding from behind her stopped them. They all turned to see Derek Powers standing there,

"That," Livia muttered, feeling an unusual amount of anger towards Allison…who had probably alerted the proper channels via her cell phone to tell the giant idiot she was leaving early,

"Uh…Livia…I was wondering if you'd…if you'd like to go to the Spring Formal with me," he sounded a bit awkward in asking, like he of course knew her answer. Tim and Stephanie gawked before they both found their voices,

 _"What!"_ Tim exclaimed at the same time as Stephanie cried,

"The _hell?"_ Livia just sighed, the perfect picture of calm,

"As you can see this was why I was trying to leave in a hurry," she told them. She then addressed Derek,

"I don't know why you're doing this…whether it was your parents who made you do this or some sick decision to somehow get at Darren by asking me this, which makes no sense to me as he doesn't even go here, but you know my answer,"

"That's a bit harsh don't you think. You don't know him like I do. He's _not_ what you think," Derek sneered, "You'll have a better time here if you sided with me and not _them_ I'm popular, they're part of the family publicly humiliating mine,"

"He's exactly what I know he is," Livia snapped, "and I don't care for popularity. I wouldn't have said yes even if I did. Afterall it was _you_ who got me _suspended_ on my _fifth_ day here for something I didn't even start or do…well…I guess I did set your coat on fire, even if I didn't know it at first," she stated with a little grin, "Sort of like now," a small flame erupted on Derek's jacket sleeve with no warning, willed to life by Livia.

She was getting better at controlling her elemental abilities. It ran hot but would not burn or damage anything. It would appear as if nothing had scorched his clothes or seared his skin. It will only feel like it did, an illusion so real it _burned_. He yelped and stumbled back away from her, face pale as he swatted it out,

"You're crazy! You're as crazy as he is!" he stumbled back once more, his cold blue eyes wide and terrified before he ran away. Livia couldn't help herself, she let out a laugh,

"You should not have done that. There's no telling who he'll tell…and there's security cameras that probably got that," Tim snapped, as she pulled her bag over her shoulder,

"He can tell whomever he wants. I don't care and it's not like they'll believe him. They'll think he was embarrassed he just got rejected by a girl," Livia sniffed, "It was too tempting to refuse and besides, the security cameras are what you're for," she grinned at him as she put an arm around his and Stephanie's shoulders,

"For your sake I hope you're right," Tim muttered, ignoring her final comment, "People here can be as bloodthirsty as the psychos who terrorize our streets,"

"There won't be any proof that anything happened this time," Livia replied evenly, "And even if this does turn people against me, I can handle it." With that, after retracting her arms from their shoulders, they all started towards the front of the school. She still had some time to kill before she really needed to book it to the Arts Academy,

"I don't understand why he hates Darren so much. It's not like they ever really lived together as a family," it couldn't be anything along the lines of sibling rivalry…they were never anything as close as siblings should be,

"I don't think his parents helped with things," Tim replied,

"You're probably right, Darren's never done anything to hurt Derek or Erik personally. It really must be how they were raised…to just hate Talons no matter what," they walked in silence for a moment or two before Tim walked off to get some food from the cafeteria before it closed completely for the day. Stephanie glanced at Livia with a grin, linking her arm through hers, before speaking once more,

"By the way you keep talking about Darren I'm getting the vibe that you _like_ him," Livia refused to blush, she simply blinked and offered a sly grin back,

"Of course I like him," she replied simply, it was the truth, "But I can't let him know that…not in any normal way at least,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Stephanie asked, making a face, she pushed a light blonde piece of hair out of her eyes, "You clearly know what you want and there is _something_ between you two. What's actually holding you back?" Livia rolled her eyes,

"Darren isn't normal, he's different. You all know that. He doesn't feel emotions like everyone else,"

"He does! He cares!" Stephanie insisted,

"Yes. I know he does in a way…but it's also different for him. He doesn't really show emotions...feelings or anything of the sort...at least not exactly willingly,"

"That doesn't mean he doesn't understand emotions or appreciate them," Steph pointed out, they turned another corner and started down the steps leading to the main entryway of the school,

"Understanding and feeling are very different. I don't want to alienate him by his lack of requited love or affection or whatever potential we may have. One can't feel what they've never experienced. Love was taken from his life at an early age and how can you exemplify an emotion you were never taught or never really experienced? Perhaps I could reawaken that…but I don't want to push him…I don't want to push him away,"

"So you _love_ him?" Was all she asked. Livia gave Stephanie a look, love was a strong word and perhaps she felt _something_ for him, not quite love…but the _potential_ for something like it…maybe even just that…she didn't know for sure and wasn't sure if she ever would,

"Did you not hear a single word I said?"

"Are you not going to answer what I asked?" she rebutted, Livia scowled at her and Stephanie laughed,

"All that aside, I think you two have something special…I think it would be very good for Darren too. Perhaps it would make things better for him emotionally, you are right he is pretty reserved. But I think there's a chance for that to change," Livia gave her a tight smile and waved goodbye as she hurried down the stone steps and towards the Arts Academy.

The flutter in her stomach all through that conversation still very much there at the thought, the idea, that maybe she could make Darren free to feel, make him understand that he didn't have to hide anything from those who cared about him. The fluttering butterflies echoed the pounding of her heart at the thought, the hope, the idea…the promise that she could make him feel whole and truly alive once again.

* * *

A/N: So many times in fanfiction and even in published novels it's always the guy who knows he loves the other female character in the story and he has to show her that she feels the same way or whatever. I know it's not all the time but I thought it would be nice to change things up. Have the girl know what she wants for once and the guy be the clueless one.

I hope you liked that chapter! It was kind of fun to write a heavily centered Livia chapter after so many focused on only Darren. I don't want to give too much away but Livia's part in the next story of this series will be much bigger than in this one. And I'm really excited for it...because there will be lots of things some characters know that others don't and vice versa, so it'll probably be super frustrating for you guys *evil devil horned emoji.* That being said all I really have for the next story are ideas, nothing is written out/down yet which is frustrating _me!_ I do have those ideas written down so I won't forget what ideas I have. I just really want to start the next part in this series but I can't until I've finished this one and I am SO CLOSE!

Anyway PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! KEEP ME SANE FOR FINALS WEEK THROUGH REVIEWS!

Next chapter on Thursday!...oh god I hope I don't have a final on that day...


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: Ahh, yes, I finally wrote chapter 40...and I still have about three or four chapters to go but I am making progress and I am still significantly ahead so I won't start freaking out about that yet. Thankfully I go home on the fifteenth and then I'm off for like a month and a half so I'll have plenty of time to write when I'm not working or going to MMA. But I am so excited to finish this story and start the next one! I have so many ideas and I'm just hoping at this point that they all come together and make sense. I don't know how long it will be or where it will go...or even how it will end...but I have plans, which is always a good place to start. My writing process is generally really scattered so new chapters pop up out of nowhere more often than not.

Anyway enough of my mumbling. Here's the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 34

Darren couldn't sleep. The various noises of the night cut in through his ears like a knife, all varying pitches and degrees of noise that irritated him to no end. It was often like that, when a room was completely silent, if a noise cut through that silence you immediately focused on only that. It was worse when one was trying to sleep. There was little he could do. The headphones only muffled the noise and playing music would only keep him up even more…besides they were too bulky to wear comfortably to sleep and they were all the way downstairs. He turned onto his side once more, glancing at the empty chair where Dick had sat in just moments ago. Bruce had called him down to talk about something, Darren hadn't been very interested in the request, he'd been trying to do an English assignment. Sometimes he just couldn't do the work, he couldn't focus, but he was trying. He needed to pass this year of school, he didn't want to have to repeat the whole year so while perhaps it wasn't his best work, he was getting it done. Slowly and surely it was getting done.

The sound of door hinges squeaking pierced his ears and he winced, letting out a hiss and clamping his hands over his ears. Maybe some food would help him sleep…he didn't eat much of his dinner…so no one would protest him eating something. Though he hadn't actually gone downstairs himself since coming back from Alaska. He clenched his teeth at that thought and forced himself to think of anything but Ra's Al Ghul and his father. There had been no word or sign from either of them and Bruce had been quiet about what he and the Demon's Head discussed on his, Damian's and Jason's raid of the Fortress. Although to be perfectly honest, Darren didn't ask. He was perfectly content being completely unaware on what had happened and what had been said. He didn't want to think of it or remember anything that had happened—except either way, he did. And he avoided all thoughts or memories relating to that time, though they crept up on him at unsuspecting times.

Darren stood and started for the door, wary of how his head spun slightly at the action. He remembered earlier on, when they forgot about his fast metabolism when he was recovering from his time with the Court after his death, how easily he got dizzy and couldn't make it down the stairs from lack of food. This was similar to then, and no one was there. They were all out and about, getting homework done, hanging out with friends or eating dinner waiting for patrol to roll around. But still Darren started for the stairs, despite how weak and dizzy and pathetic he felt. He needed to eat more, he needed to get better…he needed to do something and this, for now, was it.

There hadn't been much improvement since his hearing came back…he was healing at the same rate, his eyes were still a brilliant gold and he wasn't eating as much as he should…he was trying…he really was but something was holding him back, something still had a hold on him. And he didn't know what it was…or he was avoiding it, ignoring the memory of it or the emotions associated with it. Tim thought it was psychological and he was probably right. But Darren, yet again, pushed those thoughts away as he reached the landing still on shaky legs. He beelined for the kitchen, the rumbling in his stomach growing louder at the prospect of food. He needed it, his body knew he _needed_ food…he wanted it but something kept him from consuming what he required on a regular basis.

He made it to the island countertop in the kitchen, his palms laid flat against the cold smooth marbled top. Darren almost wanted to rest his forehead against it, as if the coldness of the countertop could ebb the pounding headache from the noise bombarding him. He leaned forward, ready to do as such when he froze. A sound had echoed loudly in his ears and he zeroed in on it: it was his name. He stood up straight, statue still and listened intently his hunger forgotten,

 _"—you heard what I said didn't you?"_ It was Bruce by the sound of it…from his office,

 _"I heard but I'm not inclined to trust Ra's al Ghul,"_ it was Dick, and he sounded irritated,

 _"He killed forty people, you've seen the security footage,"_ Darren inhaled silently but sharply…they were talking about him. This had been the information Bruce had collected from his mission to the fortress. It hadn't been about stopping Ra's and assessing the situation…it had been about _him_. About what he had done…and probably the other stuff too, but there had been a hidden agenda nonetheless. One they would never tell Darren about…information Ra's gave them on his actions when cornered and coerced into a fight.

And there it was loud, clear and out in the open…what he was afraid of, the unspoken thing he was so anxious about…too frightened and worried over to eat. That fear, so deep in the pit of his stomach that made him sick to his stomach at the mere thought of it: _what they would do once they realized Darren had killed again_. What would they think and do once they realized he hadn't thought and gave into his instinct—something that was so easy, and something he said he wouldn't do anymore. He told them he'd control himself and that he wouldn't be the monster the Court raised him to be, what they wanted him to be. But he had become just that, and now they knew, now they were _discussing_ it,

 _"He killed forty_ assassins," Dick growled, _"It was different for him. They weren't innocent victims,"_ Darren almost relaxed, Dick knew him—he understood him. But this was Bruce's home and Bruce's protection…it was him that Darren was frightened of the most,

 _"That doesn't change anything. He murdered people, how long until he slips up and kills forty_ civilians!" Bruce growled, Darren stiffened, curling his fingertips on the countertop under his palms…welcoming the pressure and slight pain from the weight he pressed onto them, it proved this was real and not another nightmare. He shouldn't keep listening, but he couldn't stop either,

 _"He knows the difference,"_ Dick insisted, _"Perhaps he's slipped up but given the circumstances—,"_

"—Does _he understand the difference? There has already been a few near slip-ups, and with everything that has happened with him how long until he forgets that difference altogether? He isn't stable. He lost all control there and we cannot have a wildcard while working alongside the Police,"_

 _"What are you saying?"_ Dick hissed, _"Because if this were Damian you'd be giving him a stern talking-to and a free pass. You're only doing this because he's not your own blood…you're only doing this because it's easier than comparing him to your own son!"_ Darren bit his lip…he didn't like where this was going,

 _"Damian practices restraint, he understands that his position is a privilege…and he hasn't committed mass murder. Perhaps he has shown his dislike for keeping to such a set of morals but he still abides by them. Darren hasn't shown any inclinations to keep to any set of morals. He was out of_ control _, he didn't care who he killed and he certainly didn't seem keen on stopping. He let go of his self-restraint and gave in to his instinct. He tore their_ hearts _from their bodies, he was monstrous. He used techniques that were drilled into him by the Court something he said he didn't want to do. He said he didn't want to be a Talon, yet that is exactly what he became,"_ Monstrous…he'd called Darren monstrous,

 _"He's not a monster and you know that. And what about Jason? I mean he's my brother and I love him but he has still killed more people than we can count or even know about since becoming Red Hood. You can't just give up on Darren when you've never given up on him!"_ Dick snarled, sounding even angrier than before. Darren listened wide-eyed. What would Bruce say? What would he do if he didn't believe that Darren wanted to be good. Did he not understand that he was trying to be good even when it would be so easy not to…had he never trusted or believed in him to begin with? Was that another _lie?_

 _"Jason is his own person, a grown man. And adheres to my rules when he runs with us. Darren is unpredictable, he has been trained to kill longer than Jason has and he hasn't been exposed to any kind of morally right upbringing since he was_ five," Bruce growled back. Darren bit the inside of his cheek hard, waiting for Dick to reply. What would he say? Did either of them really believe that he couldn't restrain himself…that he couldn't learn to be like them?

 _"What do you want to do? Lock him up—,"_ whatever else Dick snarled back at Bruce was cut off, Darren ripped himself away from that conversation. His heart beating rapidly and his breathing ragged and uneven. _Lock him up?_ Did he really just say that? Would they do that? Lock him up like a criminal alongside the Joker, the Riddler, Two-Face…all of them…in _Arkham or Blackgate?_ Would they _do_ that?

Were they really that upset with him for killing those people? Those assassins? Those _murderers?_ They were killers too…why didn't they understand that? He wouldn't do that to a civilian…though those assassins could easily hide in plain sight if they were trained to do it well and right…Darren shook his head hard—that wasn't the point. His breathing picking up in pace. He was on his way to a panic attack. They wanted him gone. They didn't _want_ him…they probably never did. They were getting rid of him all because of one slip up… _one mistake._ One of four…but one too many it seemed. They thought he was a monster…his own cousin included. He took another breath a memory flashing through of him and his father on their drive to Alaska _'there's only so many 'accidents' someone like you can have, especially in their eyes,'_ and as much as it pained him to think of that, as much as it hurt to remember what Slade had let happen to him…he saw the truth in those words. He could see it now…it was happening _now_. The air seemed to get caught in his throat and then he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't be here. He needed out, he needed away from here.

Darren pushed off of the island counter and stumbled towards an alternative entrance to the Batcave. As the main one was blocked Darren needed to make use of one of the many—yet lesser known—secret ways to get into the cave. Darren had been trained to look for fine details, including secret entrances or hideaways. People liked to hide when being hunted and killed. Upon entering the piano room he played the combination keys on the piano quickly and slipped into the elevator, glad for it as he didn't trust himself on the stairs leading down into the cavern—not when his head was spinning this much with sounds and a feeling of danger so great he felt like he would be sick.

He scrabbled with the glass casing that held his suit missing the release switch three times before yanking it out and putting it on. _They didn't want him…they didn't trust him…they wouldn't help him_ …he let those words spear through his head as he speedily changed. Thankfully no one was down there at the moment…he couldn't face anyone, not right now, without breaking down. _Monster, monster, monster_ …Bruce had called him a monster—and he was _right_.

Panicked tears blurred his vision and he blinked them away as he smacked on a mask. They didn't want him, or need him, or care for him. He was a monster, and monsters didn't need anyone. He ignored how heavy the suit felt, how it didn't fit him quite like it used to. He ignored how it felt so foreign to him and looked at the motorcycles before shaking his head. He couldn't use them, they had tracking devices within them—he himself had picked his suit clean of them. They wouldn't care anyway. He was a monster…a killer. One that couldn't change, and they were right. He'd always kill. It was instinct and it was all he knew. Nothing would change that. Instead of taking a motorcycle Darren turned to the back end of the cave, the way out for the vehicles, and with a deep breath sprinted down it.

They didn't care, they didn't want him, they wouldn't defend a killer.

Monster, monster, monster…lock him up, lock him up, lock him up.

No defending a killer, no redeeming one either.

Not by Bruce's rules or standards.

He never believed in Darren from the start.

* * *

Darren had forgotten what it felt like to speed through the streets of Gotham. The harsh wind blowing through his hair, his legs working harder and harder; faster and faster. He missed seeing the city flying by in a whirl of colors and blacks and whites, only what was in front of him in focus. He missed the feeling of his muscles working flawlessly to propel himself forward through the city's streets and back alleys. He'd forgotten what being _strong_ felt like, and how liberating it was.

He'd forgotten what it felt like to be completely and utterly free. He sprinted so fast his body blurred, and he could feel it, he could feel his Talon speed and strength returning. He could feel the energy he had so little of returning and he could feel himself slowly but surely returning to how he had been before. The air being pulled into his lungs going from hitching and labored breathing to flawless and normal as he sprinted through the city. So much energy, so much strength and life…even if he was dead. It was exhilarating but it was also a _lie_.

While his abilities had returned, he was _not_ free. The others would go looking for him once they discovered he was missing…he couldn't escape them but he didn't want to face them. Not with Bruce's threat hanging over him. Not with the fact that both his cousin and Bruce didn't trust him. He couldn't go to them, not when they were a risk to his freedom.

It was all he had. They had granted him a small taste of it…but now they too were snuffing it out. They too were taking it away…or they were going to. Perhaps he should have stayed and listened to what else they said…but it hurt too much to hear. The weight of what they said was too much for him to bear and he needed to leave. He needed to feel free once again…he wanted out of his gilded cage, and wanted out to the wild, chaotic freedom of the night.

He stumbled to a stop by an alleyway, leaning heavily against the brick wall, suddenly breathless and light-headed. The world spun and he heaved over, throwing up onto the pavement. While he could use his abilities, he still didn't have anywhere near as much energy to use them with that he should. Like anyone who wasn't used to running so excessively, he'd thrown up what little he had eaten. Darren breathed heavily for a few moments, looking at a new spot on the ground trying to make the world stop spinning before glancing up at the starry night sky and around at the civilians passing by. It was cold he realized…and he forgot his cloak. His suit was insulated, but not enough for the harsh winter nights of Gotham. He was also out in the open. Easy prey for the Court of Owls, the League of Assassins or even his father. Darren grimaced at that, glancing all around as paranoia set in.

If he couldn't go back to the Manor and he wasn't safe out in the city…where else could he go? What could he do? He _could_ survive on the streets…but not while the Court was out searching for him, hoping their Talon and Owl would return to their nest and especially not while Ra's was possibly still hunting him for the recreation of the Electrum Formula with his father by his side.

There was nowhere to go…no one would keep him safe. Darren slumped over in despair, crouching close to the ground. He wanted to go back to the Manor. He wanted to go home but…he _couldn't_. Not when they were a threat to him…not when they wanted him gone. With a pained frown he glanced at the gloved gauntlet that covered his right hand, the silver Crowne ring on his finger snug underneath it. The twin to the silver ring was now Dick's. His only family, the one he trusted more than anyone…now wanted him locked up. Dick had lost his faith in him. He was alone. Completely alone. No one was coming for him…no one he wanted to at least.

But perhaps there was something he could do. He looked up and looked at the buildings near him. Recognizing where he was. Who lived here, someone he went to unconsciously…he had no intention of arriving in this location when he started running. But they knew him…at least part of him…and never wavered for as long as he had known them as both Darren and Renegade.

Shoving off the the brick wall, sticking to the shadows, he made his way toward the familiar apartment complex. They wouldn't hate him. He needed time to face all the Bats again, and time is what they would grant him…perhaps guidance and understanding as well.

* * *

A/N: So...to start. My opinion of Bruce is very love/hate. He believes that everyone can be saved, it's why he doesn't kill. He believes in the ability to turn your back on all the bad that you have done and turn it into good. It's why he won't kill those he fights...BUT his expectations are very different for those who fight ALONGSIDE him. He is very rigid in his moral code. He will not bend, he doesn't bend and doesn't like being told to bend. He does believe in second chances but only to a certain degree. Darren has 'messed up' quite a few times, he's crossed Bruce's line a lot. And to Bruce being allies with the police is really important, it is essentially what allows the Batfam to work. If they lose that trust because they do not allow the processes of justice(the court systems) to go through, then they're done. They're over and they're being hunted down by the authorities they once worked with. The people of Gotham fear them when they used to see hope through them and villains know they aren't out there so they go and start anarchy whenever they can.

To Bruce, they can't lose that. Therefore they can't have risks to that trust. Even so, he has given Damian second and third chances, probably because he's his son but also because Damian has come an extremely long way from where he once was. So he's not as hard on Damian because he knows he understands. Jason doesn't really run with them anymore, Bruce can't control him or his actions but when Jason _does_ work with him he adheres to their rules(for the most part). Darren is a wildcard. He's completely new to this, he doesn't know the ropes and he is completely used to killing and only killing. He wasn't brought up in a place that encouraged empathy and compassion, he wasn't brought up in a place that taught right from wrong...which in hindsight is similar to Damian, but Damian was five years younger than Darren when he was brought to live with Bruce, he was still impressionable and his cognitive map(a mental representation of one's physical environment-this is a loose and oversimplified definition but it's also a pretty good one) wasn't set or complete. That happens at around 15 - 19/20 years old. Which means that Darren's cognitive map, when being brought to Wayne Manor was set. Which is why it is even more difficult for him to curb that killer instinct.

I'm not trying to paint Bruce as a bad guy, I just don't like how rigid he is about his morals. Flexibility is good and important in certain situations. Additionally, Darren cut off his listening in before the conversation was over so he only knew what he heard and didn't hear the rest of the conversation. So his reaction was a bit premature. Yet still really significant as it shows how little he actually trusted Bruce to begin with and also how little he believed Bruce's trust was genuine.

Sorry this was so long, and please let me know what you thought of this chapter, was Bruce too OC? Do you not agree with what I have said? What are you true inner most thoughts on this current situation? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Next chapter on Thursday!


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: Okay writing update: I wrote chapter 41, finally...it is still slow going and I'm kinda annoyed at myself about that but I'm sure I'll get back into the swing of writing as break continues. The good news is that I came up with a bunch of ideas for the next story! I even came up with an ending for it, so I have a specific direction that I want to go in now which is great, and I wrote it all down so I won't forget. How I'll get there though depends on what I write of course.

Additionally, I just really wanna mention this because I thought it was freaking hilarious. Someone posted a review about how their one criticism is that Darren seems to run away from problems or panics and I sat there for a full five minutes after reading it super angry and being so upset because I thought it was about the current chapter I had written and not the current one I had posted so I spent those five minutes going 'what the hell is this person talking about! Darren freaking calmed down in this chapter, what the hell do you mean he panics all the ti-ohhhhh!" XD

Anyway, in response to that, yeah Darren tends to panic but that is because in the moment he wasn't really in a good place mentally and he had just been betrayed by his own father. As for other times it was mostly he just didn't know how to react to what was happening or what he was feeling/experiencing. I also did mention that in general Darren's response was premature in the Author's Note at the end of the chapter, but I did that on purpose. It was for a reason.

I will in general try to respond to comments more often than I have been. Usually I directly messaged the person who commented when I felt it was necessary, but now if you have specific questions or comments that you want to ask me post them and I'll answer them here in an Author's Note...if I can, I don't do spoilers people!

Enough of my rambling, here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 35

Darren was lazy. He used a grappling hook to climb to Livia's window instead of jumping—he had no energy for that and was too tired to even try—and used a batarang to open the latch. He was also tired and weary…and depressed from what he had just recently overheard. Darren also didn't knock. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries and felt to apathetic to even try and be chivalrous. He slid silently through the open window, peering into the room. Plagg was asleep on the foot of the bed, he maneuvered himself fully into the room careful, so not to wake up the cat. It was strangely dark, it was too early for her to be asleep and she would not be out and about at the moment. She'd be doing homework.

Light was coming from a vanity pushed up against the wall. Darren stood from his crouch, frowning in confusion…Livia was sitting there but it seemed there were candles lit. Right in front of her and they were moving, almost as if they were her fingertips. That couldn't be right, that wasn't possible. Darren took a step forward, almost entranced with curiosity when Livia jerked with surprise, catching sight of him at the corner of her eye. She let out a small yelp of fear before spinning to her feet to face him…throwing something with all her might at him.

Darren didn't even have time to react. It happened so quickly. Usually he would be all catlike reflexes, but at the moment he was useless and exhausted. He did raise his arms and close his eyes but whatever she threw at him—it seemed to be a flame, he wouldn't blame her if it was he _had_ snuck into her room—but it didn't strike him. It got close enough for him to feel the heat and the sizzling of fire but as soon as it touched his skin the flame extinguished as if it never existed in the first place. He lowered his arms in shock and couldn't form words…this was impossible. Why would a flame suddenly blink out of existence…and how could Livia throw live flame from her hand. Had he seen this right…or had his eyesight not return yet,

"Darren! You scared the hell out of me!" Livia snarled, her yellow-green eyes eerily bright in the dark room. Darren stopped his looking around to see if his eyesight was back—it was—mouth opened to apologize,

"Darren?" Came out instead, the realization hit him in that instant. She had called him Darren _not_ Renegade. They both stared at each other stunned. His thoughts ran a mile a minute…swirling around his head until he thought it was going to burst, _"Darren?"_ he said again, taking a step back…away from Livia. How did she know? He came here as _Renegade_ , how could she have known it was him? How could she possibly know it was Darren Crowne. He took another step back, his leg nearly buckling,

"H-how could you know it was me?" he questioned. Livia stared silently back at him. Darren didn't expect a reply. No one had ever told him the truth here. It had all just been lies. Only ever lies. She was thinking of how to cover this up, perhaps she was weaving a string of lies in her head at this very minute. How long had she known? Had it been this _whole time_ …was she truly a spy for the court and she'd just been so good at deceiving him. Had everything been a _lie?_ The conversations and companionship they had at night, her saving him and him saving her at the school…had that all been set up,

"Don't you dare think that," she stated, taking a step forward…Darren took another back, "I'm not going to lie to you,"

"I wish I could believe that…but you're not the first person who has lied to me,"

"I know who you are. You are Darren Jacob Crowne. A Talon. And a vigilante of Gotham. You're Renegade," Livia said firmly, taking another step forward. Darren didn't move…he couldn't…this was too overwhelming, he slumped to his knees too tired to stand anymore,

"How long have you known? _Why_ do you know…are…are you a Talon too? Did they send you here to kill me?" He'd never voiced it out loud to her before. Doing it made the whole thing feel real. This was happening…the Court had won if she was a Talon…and he didn't know what it meant if she wasn't,

"No. I'm not a Talon," Livia stated…and Darren listened intently, focusing on her heartbeat because the heart never lied. It remained steady, a constant rhythm…perhaps the Court teaches their Talons to lie, and to lie well, but a Talon's heartbeat is slow too slow for them to be considered living. Livia's heart beat faster than his, than William's, than Calvin's…like a human's heartbeat and his back shuddered with the sigh of relief that tore through him,

"Then why do you know?"

"Because I may not be a Talon…but I am a witch," Livia replied, a small flame erupting over the center of her outstretched palm…illuminating the darkness. Darren stared at her…at the flame bewildered,

"How is that possible?" He demanded, eyes narrowing in confusion,

"It's a long story," Livia stated, "But it's how I know you're Darren…I read Tim's mind," Darren slowly reached up and pulled his mask from his face, his brilliantly gold eyes now visible. He didn't need it anymore. No need to wear the mask, no need to play a character and no need to be cautious of what he said and how he said it. Livia didn't seem surprised to see them that shade of gold, she knew more than he expected her to,

"You read his mind? Can you read mine? Could you read it the whole time?"

"It comes and it goes…I'm still very new at this. I didn't have any powers until a few weeks after I arrived here. But I did read Tim's mind and I know mostly everything now. Though for some reason…I can't read your mind,"

"You know everything…and…you're not afraid?" Livia silently shook her head,

"No. I'm not afraid. Now you know how I know. I knew since that night in the alley, when I found you surrounded by those Talons. I knew I needed to do something, so I did,"

"You used _magic_ ," Darren breathed, "It _was_ magic…you saved my life,"

"Of course I did…you saved _mine,_ more than once. But I know you didn't sneak in here to talk about magic. What's wrong?" Darren crumpled at those words, all strength and focus gone, he hunched over himself and took a harsh ragged breath. Livia let out a small startled breath and went over to him, kneeling next to him and putting a hand on his shoulder, _"What's wrong?"_

"They…they…they think I'm a monster. They want me locked up. They don't trust me anymore…I'm a criminal to them…they want to lock me up like a criminal, alongside all those other psychos and killers because…because I _killed_ again. I killed again…but they were _assassins_ …they knew that but they still want me gone because I killed," it all came out a once, in a jumbled string of bumbling, stilted sentences,

"What? Who wants you locked up?"

"Bruce…Dick…my own cousin…all of them," Darren almost moaned. And he told her everything. _Everything_. It all tumbled out and he couldn't stop himself. From when he was young to now…of course he left certain details out but he wanted her to know, to understand that he wasn't a monster…that he wasn't a criminal. And when he was done Livia sat back on her heels an almost wounded look on her face…an expression which reflected how he felt,

"I don't think they meant that. It was a heated conversation,"

"You don't know Bruce, he's strict. All he sees in me is my father…my great-grandfather,"

"You are not them…Bruce knows that too. _I_ know that. I _know_ you,"

"You keep saying that! But it doesn't _matter_. I'm just another Slade or William Cobb. I'm a monster…a criminal… _both_ even…and…and they're right. I might as well be them, I've killed enough people, I've proven again and again that I am my father's son. I don't deserve this suit…or this mantle…I don't deserve any of it,"

 _"Don't_ talk like that,"

"No one understands what it's like to have two murderers hanging over your shoulders…no one understands how tempting it is after an upbringing surrounded by killing…by nature vs nurture where nature always wins out…where it's drilled into your brain until it is all that you know. They don't see that because they had the option, the _luxury_ , to be taught that it was wrong," Darren snarled. He didn't mean to get angry at her, but Livia didn't seem stunned or hurt. She looked at him levelly,

"I do," she stated, "I understand,"

"How could you possibly understand? You saved me twice…you're a good person!"

"Perhaps I'm a good person…but that doesn't mean I'm a good witch," Livia shook her head, sitting back against the wall of her room, "I mean _magician_ ,"

"What do you mean?" Darren shifted so he was sitting across from her, the moon pushed through the clouds behind him, casting his shadow across the floorboards until it reached Livia's shadow by the wall before him,

"I've broken things countless of times without meaning to, I've set Derek Powers's coat on fire twice…I may have cheated on a history test by picking the answers out of peoples' heads,"

"That's not murder, that's not _criminal,"_

"Perhaps not but I understand the inheritance and pressure of someone who was just that… _criminal,"_

"What do you mean?"

"My family history is what I mean. My whole family is a family of magicians…and not all of them are good. I knew some of this before…just not the supernatural aspect of it,"

"How so?"

"I don't know where to start,"

"Just tell me. I want to know…I need to hear this…I need to know I'm not crazy for feeling this way…show me that this is unfair, that good people can still come from terrible families," he asked in near desperation, Livia sat with her knees to her chest, her long dark hair curling around her shoulders and her lips in a thin line. It was then that Darren realized she was only in a bathrobe, the light blue fabric thin over her skin. He pulled his gaze up to meet her yellow-green eyes,

"My dad's my uncle," she blurted out. Darren blinked, startled by her outburst,

"What?" he managed, Livia grimaced and smacked a hand to her forehead,

"That came out really wrong. What I mean…is that the man you know as my father is actually my uncle. He's my mother's brother and he adopted me after my parents died,"

"So your brother—,"

"—is my cousin,"

"And your mom—,"

"—is my adoptive dad's sister…they were twins, which is why he never really got over her death. He…he always said it felt like he died that day too,"

"So…so…your mom left on a plane, with a criminal…that's what you said. You said a criminal was on that plane with her, but that criminal was also a relative," Livia nodded solemnly,

"That _'relative'_ was my _father_. He was a Baudelaire witch. And he was a con-man. He'd use his abilities to cheat innocent people out of billions of dollars. He'd go to auctions and steal the pieces right out from the buyer's noses. Any new gem on display or new artwork in a gallery gone in the blink of an eye. No trace, no fingerprints…nothing for the police to use. And even if they did discover it was him, he had a huge family mansion in France that he took everything to. It was hidden magically of course so even if they found out about it the police or any kind of authority couldn't get to it. Years worth of treasures, artwork, crown jewels, and gems…anything of value he'd take. Anyone who got in his way suffered too, I'm sure of it. And he was never caught,"

"Except he was," Darren murmured…he felt calmer than he had all night, focused…clear-minded…at peace. He wasn't the only one hounded by the bad history of a family member,

"A con-man magician can't out-con a more powerful one. I don't know who it was but he pissed a very old and powerful magic-user off…they killed him and my mother,"

"Did she know? Your mom that is,"

"That the man she loved was a lying, cheating criminal? If she did, she took it to her grave and she didn't do anything about it," she muttered quietly,

"Anything you know of," Darren replied just as quietly,

"Well now you know the truth and you know that I understand what you're going through…I understand that temptation. Perhaps only I know what my father did through a book and not in person…and I didn't experience it or lived with him, but because I know this truth…I can fight the _temptation_ to do bad everyday.

"I could do anything I want, _anything_ …but I don't because I use my father as a reminder of who I don't want to become. Perhaps you should try and do that with Slade and William. Make them your reason why you won't cross that line, why you won't play their games,"

"But I've already done that…it hasn't really worked has it?"

"Then toe the line. Push against it…but don't become your father, work to find a balance. It is possible to be a killer and be good…Jason has proved that, though I know you can do this," Livia stated, "And you don't have to just give in and kill from now on just because you did it once again. You _have_ practiced restraint before, the only time you really slip up is if you are angry or cornered or you lose faith in yourself,"

"I can try…but what if I fail? I've already failed many times," Darren looked up at Livia, edging closer to her,

"You only fail if you give up and give in. You'll only fail if you let them turn you into a monster. You were their victim once…they poked and prodded you until you conformed to their shape and their will, perhaps Bruce is attempting to do that too, perhaps he doesn't even realize that's what he's doing, instead of completely changing you can find a balance between the two extremes. You can do that and still be yourself," he could feel every grain in the wood as his hands pushed against the floor…he brought himself until he was knee to knee with Livia. They both rested their chins on the tops of their knees, unconsciously mimicking one another,

"And if I kill. Would you hate me for it?" She looked him right in the eye as she answered,

"You've already killed Darren…and I've never hated you for it. We all have darkness in us, and those that embrace it and still remain whole are the strongest among us," Livia stated, a wry smile on her face. Darren grinned back, they were very close…toe to toe…knee to knee. They sat in comfortable silence…and Darren could only feel relief in that perhaps despite whatever Bruce decided and whatever Dick went with…he was still himself…he could find himself even if he lost control now and then. He knew it was wrong, but at the same time he knew it wasn't completely unwarranted. And if he knew it was wrong in the first place he could work to do things the right way, but still _his way._

* * *

A/N: Again, if you have any questions or comments or things you want answered please please please write a review! I will answer to the best of my ability. In essence, PLEASE try and poke holes into my story, it'll help strengthen my writing skills for the next story and make the plot less easier to pick apart. Of course, some of your questions or pickings may be answered later in this story and in the series so you'll have to wait for those answers the hard way ;)

I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. I loved writing and the next chapter as well, which I can't wait for you guys to read. I know my note was super long at the top and I apologize for that, but I hope you were still happy with the content of this chapter.

Thanks for reading and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Next chapter on Thursday!


	36. Chapter 36

A/N: Writing update: I am on the second to last chapter! WHOOO! Finally! I think I may split it into two chapters though due to length since I know some people love long chapters and other people hate them because they just can't focus enough to finish them, though I am fond of even numbers(chapter 44 would have been the last chapter/Epilogue if I didn't split them, we'll see)

Anywho, here is the latest chapter. I worked really hard on this chapter and I don't know if you guys will like it or not and I hope you do...so here it is!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 36

They still sat facing one another, in companionable silence when lightning sparked suddenly. Flaring up on Livia's hands and arcing down her knees towards Darren's. She let out a cry of warning but the electricity just sputtered and fizzed out once it reached his ankles,

"I'm so sorry…I didn't mean to do that…sometimes it just acts up," she muttered sheepishly,

"It's okay," Darren said chuckling, "I don't feel pain…and besides…it just stopped before it reached me…my suit is insulated too," Livia frowned at that,

"So did the flame I threw at you. That has never happened before," she stood…so did Darren, though he felt slightly lightheaded as he did so, he was still tired from his run over here and still healing overall, "I've…I've actually never used magic on a Talon before…only on their weapons,"

"So?" Darren asked, frowning and placing a hand on the vanity chair to steady himself,

"What…what if magic doesn't work on them? On you?"

"Why does that matter?" He asked, raising an eyebrow,

"It matters because I can't read your mind…the fire didn't hurt you and the lightning didn't electrocute you…so I probably can't do that with other Talons as well,"

"Okay, but _why_ does that _matter?_ You _aren't_ going up against the Court of Owls," Darren remarked, frowning at her,

"It was my _backup_ plan…it was my weapon against the Court," She sounded slightly panicked,

"Wait…what do you mean your _weapon_ against the Court?" Darren didn't mean to snap at her, but it sounded like she was relying on her own abilities to defend herself against the Court…which wasn't possible. Darren could barely escape them and he was _one of them._

Livia suddenly leapt at him, throwing fireball after fireball after fireball. They all only singed his suit…no burned skin or any affect on him at all or they winked out of existence the moment it touched his skin, leaving only a flash of intense heat before vanishing. Darren waved away the smoke in the air, trying not to seem too angry at this revelation,

"Livia why did you think this was a weapon?" he asked again, very seriously, he wanted to know what she had been thinking. Sure magic could be used in a fight, but it shouldn't be relied on…no superhuman ability should be,

"Because you said they were _superstitious_ …I thought if they feared my magic I could defend myself and my family if they ever _did_ attack like you said they might. It was why I didn't tell you! I thought you were superstitious too because those Talons practically raised you and I didn't want you to despise me or fear me," She sounded angry as well, throwing her hands up in the air and paced angrily around the room, but was actually more frustrated at this discovery than anything. Her plan was now void and useless. Darren though, felt ticked off even though he understood her rationality completely,

"So all this time…you thought _magic_ could stop them, _that_ was the reason you thought you were protected. That's what you wouldn't tell me all those nights ago? I could have told you magic didn't work on us! I _knew that!"_ Silence echoed once again before Darren spoke again, much quieter than before, "You really thought _magic_ would make me hate you? I mean I _was_ cautious of everyone…I was wary of you and your presence, I couldn't risk letting anyone close. I thought you were one of _them_ for awhile…I even contemplated killing you because I couldn't risk the smallest chance you were a Talon waiting to strike against me or my—my family. I realize I was wrong, but you kept this a secret even though it wasn't true?"

"I didn't _know_ it wasn't true, I was hoping it was and… _wait_ , hold up you wanted to _kill_ me?"

"I _contemplated_ , never actually did anything," Darren insisted raising his hands in a placating matter—maybe he shouldn't have mentioned that, "it was because I didn't know who was friend or foe…I was _different_ back then…I didn't know you as a friend…I didn't think of you that way. I didn't trust as easily—still don't really either but that's besides the point.

"You kept this a _secret!_ That was dangerous, you can't just rely on a theory when other people's lives are at stake," Livia let out a scoff and scowled at him, causing Darren to glare back at her,

"Do you know what would have happened if they cornered you and it was _then_ that you found out magic didn't work on Talons? You'd be _dead_ …because you kept this to yourself!" He hissed, stepping forward aggressively…Livia flinched at his words and took a step back though her expression never wavered from a scowl even if he did speak the truth. Even if his sudden movement slightly frightened her, she stood her ground.

He didn't know why this angered him so much, but it was a reckless thing she did and a stupid thing to rely on. It was why the Talons-to-be sparred against the Talons, so they wouldn't have only their abilities to rely on in a fight, they would have something other than their enhanced abilities to use once they were turned. He took a deep breath and relaxed his stance…it is not his goal to be imposing, she was only working with the information she knew and the abilities only she knew she truly had,

"Don't be upset about this! That isn't _fair!_ People get to keep whatever secrets they want, including me!" she stated. Darren glowered at her again, he couldn't help it…even if he understood the truth that rang in her words, _"Don't_ give me that look. You had your secrets as well, and I let you keep them for as long as you desired. How would that be fair if it were any different for me?" Darren stepped forward again, less forcefully…she didn't step back this time,

"I could have _killed_ you…I could have _hurt_ you if I were any less restrained than I am now…I could have made a terrible mistake and if the Court knew that magic didn't work on them they wouldn't have stayed away. They would have hunted you down and hurt someone I—," he cut himself off and they both froze at that, staring at one another blue-grey eyes to yellow-green…both shocked,

"Someone you _what?"_ She breathed, Darren swallowed, confused by the direction this conversation went. He'd been angry before…angry she'd been so reckless…but now, he didn't know what he felt,

"Someone I—," he couldn't finish that sentence…he didn't really know how to end it, he didn't know what this mass of feeling building in his chest was. It had suddenly happened, with no warning and he didn't know what it was. Whether it was relief that he hadn't hurt her or pain at the fact that she didn't trust him with her worries in the first place, or something else he couldn't name or understand,

"Someone you hated or despised…did you hate me Darren? Is that why you wanted to kill me?" Livia asked carefully and unreadable expression on her face, leaning against the wall—arms crossed—once more, they had circled each other while shouting at one another…now they stood still coming to a stop where they started,

"No! Never…I couldn't," he barked it out, quickly and harshly. It was the truth,

"You couldn't hate me?" she asked softly dropping her arms to her sides, her gaze warm and opened, so different from the cold calculating gaze she had just moments before, "You couldn't hurt someone you cared about could you…you couldn't let them hurt me,"

"I…I—no…no, I couldn't. Not…not someone like you," Darren stated slowly…wondrously. Alarmed by the sudden realization, something he hadn't seen before or understood before.

It wasn't hatred he felt for her…it had never been that…ever, it was something _meaningful_ , a _need_ to know her. It wasn't just caution he used to weave his answers when he spoke to her or had conversations with her, it was nerves…he was _nervous_ to talk to her. He stumbled over what he said for the longest time, until he got to know her better. It wasn't fear of her he felt, it was the _desire_ to know someone else—which frightened him because he never felt that way towards anyone before, he'd never experienced it before. He never experienced such a capacity to _trust_ someone enough to open up to, to talk to. But he forced himself away because that would put _her_ in danger…it had never really been _just_ about _his_ safety, yet he was drawn to her anyway. It wasn't suspicion that made him spy on her and Tim doing their project, it was _jealousy_ …Tim got to spend time with her, _not_ him. He never felt any animosity towards her…not in a long long time. Just _longing_ and _desire_ and…and… _affection_. He couldn't actually name what he felt, only understood it as something unmovable, unchangeable…incredibly reliable and intense…it made him feel _alive_ ,

"Someone I care about," he said finally after a long pause between them. Certainty in his statement, he knew it to be true…but did she know it to be true as well. Did she feel that as well or did she fear him like she did the other Talons? He stepped even closer still and she stared at him, a smile gracing her face, and he felt as if his chest had been crushed or trampled by something…this feeling…whatever its name was, he wasn't used to feeling. Not this intensely, not like this…it felt like worry and happiness but at the same time something different…something good,

"What did you see in me?" he asked instead of acting upon the confusion he felt,

"What?" Livia asked, eyebrows furrowing,

"When you found me in that alleyway? You told me before people don't save strangers unless they see something in them…what did you see in me?" Livia was silent for a moment, considering her answer,

"I saw…a savior…someone who would fight no matter what for others who were trapped with no way to live a life of their own because you knew what that was like. I saw someone who would always fight for justice in the way you knew how…and someone who would learn and grow and change because that is what making your own choices in life does…it changes you and maybe it's not always perfect or for the better…but those changes and choices are your _own_. They make you, you. They are what define you.

"I saw a savior for Gotham…a savior for the _victims_ …for the ones who don't need a Batman or a Nightwing…but someone who would do what is necessary when needed," Darren stared at her and in that instant he decided that he knew what he felt towards her. No one had ever seen something so deep and meaningful and worldly in him ever.

He had never loved anyone as much as he loved her in that moment,

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, he didn't know what else to say, or do to describe what he was feeling…it was something he never felt before towards anyone, at least not in a truly romantic way. Livia tilted her head like a cat, shaking it and then chuckled a little,

"You're too polite for me Darren," a smile graced her face yet again making her eyes shine brightly…full of life and happiness despite the hell he has dragged her into,

"Is that a problem? Should I not have asked? Did I—," Darren started, concerned he'd upset her,

"Shut up and kiss me you idiot," she murmured, rolling her eyes and smiling lightly. He blinked, stunned by what she just said but then smiled. Darren stepped froward slowly…cautiously, reaching up to cup her cheeks with both hands gently…feeling almost shy, an unfamiliar feeling of nerves fluttering in his stomach and chest. He was taller than her and he had to bend down slightly to reach her. His lips pressed against her's and he dropped his hands from her face to her waist as her arms wrapped around his neck, settling there gently. It was an innocent kiss, one that dulled the nerves he felt and made him realize that he actually _felt_. This was _real_ …this was happening…and it felt different and amazing and invigorating all at once. That one kiss was a slideshow of emotions he has never felt before, and it was _wonderful_.

Darren pulled back, wondering what was going on in Livia's mind…wondering if she had felt all the things he had and more. Livia let out a breath she seemed to be holding, his eyes met hers' and that's all it took before they lunged for each other at the same time. Coming in for a harder kiss, a deeper kiss as the hands still tucked around his neck crept up through his hair, twisting through it and sending indescribable sensations down his spine.

That _kiss_. That kiss was all it took. Something had unlocked within him. A piece of him that had been kept away, ignored, never really explored or needed for his line of work, never needed for a Talon. A part of him that Darren had never known was there. Something that glimmered like a dying ember suddenly sparked, roaring into a fire that spread through his veins, that danced under the surface of his skin in an inferno of need and want.

Heat spread through him, almost encasing him…a feeling he's never felt before. Something he's never experienced. A fire that threatened to consume his very being…something he would let happen because that fire was not going to destroy him. No it would give him new strength and feelings he never truly had before like desire and want and need and…and… _love_.

They were still wrapped around one another, his hand slipping under the thin fabric of her bathrobe, caressing along her ribs. Gooseflesh erupted along her skin at his chilled touch and she gasped against his lips…sending a wave of sizzling fire through his body. He instinctively pulled her closer, running a thumb along her breast, her nails dug into the back of his suit at his touch.

They tore at one another touching, kissing, breathing as one, a mess of lips, teeth, hands and hair…almost tearing at each other's body in a cyclone of lips, hands and teeth until Livia's back thumped against the wall audibly—knocking a few items off the vanity, they crashed to the floor—and Livia let out a small cry. Darren opened his mouth to apologize worried he had hurt her when she let out a chuckle against his lips, sending a tingle through them and he couldn't help but laugh as well before she pounced, pulling his face back to her's. But Darren heard the doorknob turn and in an instant pulled away vanishing into the shadows of the room. Livia stumbled forward slightly due to his instantaneous absence as she turned to face a little dark eyed, brown haired boy—the spitting image of Dr. Branley—,

"Livia…I heard a loud noise!" he cried, looking concerned. Livia had a hand to her chest—pulling the bathrobe quickly back into place—the other against her lips, and appeared to be trying not to look too flustered,

"Oh…uh…it's nothing to worry about. I just…um…I…dropped something. Go…go back to bed Petey,"

"Are you sure? There are _crazy_ people here…that's what daddy said,"

"Yeah, but they're not in this apartment. Go back to bed _now_ ," slight warning in her voice. The little boy nodded solemnly before backing out of the room, Livia closing the door behind him to make sure it was completely shut before turning to face Darren—hiding behind the open door to her bathroom—and started to cackle,

"Oh my God…my little brother has literally the worst timing," she smiled brightly at him and he tried to smile back but exhaustion was really catching up to him at this point…the energy he felt moments ago vanishing as if it had never been there. Livia saw him wavering on his feet and frowned, stepping forward,

"What's wrong Darren. I—Darren!" she gasped as he fell forward. She caught him and nearly fell over,but she twisted them around and guided him to her bed, "Sorry…I should have realized, you're still healing—," she babbled, Darren shook his head, dismissing her misdirected guilt and silently reached up and took her hand—he marveled at how comforting just holding her hand felt. He didn't feel this when he pulled her along by hand in the school when it was attacked. Things changed, his perspective changed and his understanding of what he _felt_ changed. That's what it had to be, he didn't know any other explanation. He shifted slightly, her hand still in his, and lay back against the pillows,

"It's not your fault…I wasn't helping myself much earlier either," Livia smirked before letting out a sigh and letting her head drop onto his chest,

"I—I didn't think you'd ever like me," she murmured, turning her head to face him, "I didn't know if you could—," she cut herself off, frowning slightly as if something had come out in a way she hadn't meant it to. Darren frowned and sat up slightly,

"You didn't think that I could love…or try to? Or feel anything in a romantic way?" he asked. Livia bit her lip, as if ashamed to think that,

"I didn't know…what you've been through from such a young age, it can change people. It did…but clearly not enough. And I like most teenage girls…I…I can be insecure and impulsive with my feelings…I didn't want to scare you away,"

"Nothing would scare me away from you. I don't scare that easily," he didn't consider that a lie. Fear…was a complex thing, and it wasn't something to push upon or confess to others…not yet, not completely, "Though I'm certainly open to really learning how to truly love and feel," Darren murmured huskily—flinging those thoughts away—leaning forward to steal a kiss, craving that feeling of fire within his body once more, only to be pushed back down onto the pillows by Livia's gentle hand,

"We'll have plenty of time for that later," she chided sitting up, though she grinned as she said it,

"Of course I did…I _do_ …like you," Darren felt it needed to be said, "You aren't afraid of me…you _saw_ me, as me. Not as the Talon. Not as the assassin. There was no fear of me…you just acted like I was anyone else,"

"Well it did help that I knew the _boy_ before the _assassin_ ," Livia stated, "And you are like anyone else—your history is your own. Though to be honest, I guess I also wouldn't say you're like anyone else. You're beyond anyone else,"

"True…I am definitely better looking…actually just better in general. Faster, stronger, I can see in the dark really well…," he grinned as Livia rolled her eyes,

"Don't make me regret saying that,"

"I don't think I could, you are pretty stubborn. I bet you wouldn't let yourself regret anything. Your stubborn ass wouldn't let go of my hand when we were stuck dangling out of that window despite the fact that it was either dropping a few feet or dying,"

"I prefer determined," she stated, frowning, "and I do not jump out of windows on a daily basis…as I _told_ you then!"

"You prefer a lot of things,"

"I _do_ prefer you, semi-questionable escape tactics and all," she declared, Darren wanted to argue against that but grimaced briefly—apologetically—instead before moving to sit up,

"I'm sorry…but I think I'm going to be sick," Livia nodded and grabbed the nearest trash bin and handed it to him, sitting next to him on the bed, brushing the hair back from his forehead as he thew up,

"How embarrassing," he groaned, plopping the bin on the floor,

"I'm a doctor's daughter. I'm no stranger to throw up," she replied giving him a reassuring grin, "But I think it's time you told someone where you are," Darren frowned, lying back down on the bed,

"No,"

 _"Darren,"_ she said, exasperated,

"I want to stay here," he curled onto his side to face her and Livia sighed, leaning her elbows on the edge of the bed and resting her chin on her hands,

"I know…but my dad will be coming home soon and if he does it will be even harder to get you out of here as it is," her eyes were almost luminous in the dark, they were mesmerizing,

"I'm quiet," he replied, not missing a beat,

"He comes in to wake me up for school,"

"You should invest in an alarm clock," Darren monotoned, eliciting another eye-roll from Livia,

"Would it be better if I called someone?" Livia questioned. Darren rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling before looking back over at Livia. She looked concerned and on the verge of doing just that whether or not he agreed,

"Fine,"

"I'll call Tim. Neutral ground and much better than either Bruce or Dick at the moment, right?" Darren nodded grumpily, he listened as she called from the bathroom…wondering what the others were doing…what they were thinking. He heard Tim pick up and turned onto his side towards the windows, forcing himself to focus on something other than Tim and Livia talking a few feet away,

"—yes, he's here," Livia stated, after a second or two of listening she replied, "He heard them…that's why he's here," a few more moments of talking before she replied haughtily,

"Ask Bruce and Dick," before hanging up and coming back into the main room. She then knelt next to the bed reaching over and threaded her fingers through his, pulling him gently onto his back once more,

"I know you don't want to see them…but there's more to the story I'm sure,"

"It doesn't change the fact that they considered it,"

"Perhaps it was considered _sarcastically_. You know Dick, he couldn't lock up family,"

"I hardly know any of them at all,"

"You've known them for far longer than you've known me," she reminded him. Darren let out a grunt, "Close your eyes and try to nap. Tim will be here soon and you'll go home. It will be fine. I promise,"

"Not even you can make everything fine," Darren growled, but complied. It wasn't really Dick he was upset about—not anymore at least—he was more understanding about his background and his occasional slip-ups. It was Bruce who was unmoving with his standards and expectations. It was him he did not trust, and probably never would…even if he had to live under the same roof as him for the rest of his life. Perhaps he never had that trust to begin with.

* * *

A/N: Aghhh, I really hope you guys liked this chapter and that it made sense. I am not a guy so perhaps this perspective of anything romantic is a bit inaccurate but I tried my best as I have done throughout this entire series. I think this chapter really worked not just for them and their characters, but for the overall future of this series. Livia is a complete and different perspective for Darren, she is also still learning things about herself and the world as well just like Darren. In my opinion they really compliment each other in that way and in many others, I am a big fan of the whole 'two sides of the same coin' type of power couple. I personally really liked this chapter and how it all came together.

So...let me know: you like, you hate, you're unsure...you have questions? Please write a comment and I'll answer to the best of my ability.

 **Fun Fact:** the phrase _Coup de Foudre_ , which means strike/shot of lightning refers also to the phrase 'love at first sight' which inspired the lightning at the beginning of this chapter(I freaking love this phrase) Although I personally do not really like love at first sight stories...this whole relationship was not that of course, but I felt it was a cool thing to include/allude to :)

Also, in response to **Rakuzai's** **question** from last week: Yes Zatanna appeared in an earlier chapter, as for why she did not know immediately that it was Livia who contributed to the 'high levels of magic in Gotham' I cannot really say except that you will find out by the end of this story and in part of the next installment why she could not/did not. Bruce is investigating Livia's abilities and whether she is a threat, but on a very discrete level because she is friends with two of his co-workers of fighting crime-one being his son-and friends with a very temperamental teenager who is also a Talon assassin. You will learn what he has been doing and why by the end of this story. As for where I will go from here, I will not include most of the DC story arcs from the comics because I feel that it is difficult to include my characters, the characters I have from the comics and what happens in the comics as well as keep it all making sense and true to the storyline. I will most likely reference different things vaguely, for example: in a later chapter I do mention Batman Incorporated.

I hope this answered the question! If anyone has any others PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! I will answer as best I can!

Happy Holidays! And hope you guys have a happy New Year!

Next chapter on Thursday!


	37. Chapter 37

A/N: Writing update! I may have finished chapter 43(?) It depends on how long it gets, I'm going to see how long what I write next ends up to be, but as of now it is still technically part of chapter 43. After I finish I'll finally be on the epilogue! I'll let all you guys know when I've actually completed this story and when I will most likely start posting the third part in this series.

In response to the latest comment by **Rakuzai** , I felt Livia needed to actually see the fact that her magic doesn't work on Talons for herself, like it needs to be more real so she 'tested' this on Darren. Darren didn't really react to that because he already knew magic didn't hurt Talons and he was so focused on what she had said before. That was my thinking and that part was actually what I was mainly concerned about. Thanks for commenting!

Now here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy

* * *

Chapter: 37

Darren dozed on and off, but sat up when Livia came back into the room after checking on her brother to make sure he actually went back to bed, and wasn't too terrified from whatever bad dream that initially woke him. He propped himself on his elbows, blinking sleepily…he was actually pretty tired,

"Lie down," Livia chided softly,

"I'm fine. Tim's here anyway," he muttered as a tapping sounded on the window. It opened and Tim popped his head in. He glanced around the room, glaring at Darren—as if he were an exasperated parent—and frowning before turning to Livia,

"Thanks for taking care of him," he said,

"Thanks for speaking as if I wasn't even here," Darren growled in return. Livia smacked him lightly on the arm,

"Be nice," she muttered, standing fully, "It wasn't a problem. Just get him home," she said to Tim. Darren sighed but rose as well and followed Tim out the window and to the roof,

"Okay, I parked not too far from here. I don't know where you're bike is but—,"

"There was no bike," Darren monotoned, he was sitting at the edge of the roof. He didn't really want to go back. Not yet at least,

"No bike…what do you mean?" Tim asked, turning to face him and raising an eyebrow,

"I ran here,"

"You're speed came back? Darren that's amazing!" He sounded genuinely happy too…if only Darren was as enthusiastic about that as he was. He wasn't in a celebratory mood at the moment. He had a pit of dread in his stomach at the prospect of going back to the Manor. Everyone would be upset with him, he knew it,

"And my strength," Darren replied as well, feeling slight pride that his abilities had returned…but mainly just dread at going back to the manor. Tim was silent for a moment probably sensing his unwillingness to move,

"You came here…specifically," he said quietly,

"Yes," he didn't ask Darren to elaborate, he instead said,

"Let's go back home. We can talk about anything that's bothering you there. It's cold out and you don't have your cloak," Darren grimaced, not looking back at Tim, instead facing the rest of the city and night sky with the wind ruffling his hair,

"Can we just sit here for a bit…I don't really want to go back just yet," Tim let out a sigh before crossing the roof and sitting next to him on the rooftop,

"I don't know what happened…I really don't know what Bruce and Dick were talking about that made you react this way. But you know you could have come to one of us…you didn't have to tire yourself out or risk being captured again coming all the way here,"

"I wanted to come here…and I didn't want to go to anyone else,"

"You trust her that much? What changed from wanting to kill her?"

"She knows who I am. She knows what I am. She knows who we all are…and she's a magician,"

"So you know what she is and what she knows," Tim let out a sigh, "I didn't mean for any of that to slip…you know that right?"

"It's not like you can help when a mind reader reads your mind. Though I thought you were trained against them," Darren replied, a smirk on his face,

"I was trained against the Martian mind readers, not the magical ones," Tim stated, scowling mildly at Darren. Silence fell between them. Not exactly a comfortable one, Tim was frustrated that Darren wasn't talking, he could sense it. But he also understood Darren's dilemma, he knows what it's like to want to hide everything away,

"Really Darren, tell me what's wrong," Darren closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the city fill his senses, letting everything rise in pitch until he almost couldn't take all the noise, before opening them and letting out a deep sigh,

"Do you think I'm a monster for killing people?" Tim thought for a moment before stating,

"Is that what this is about?"

"That's not an answer," Tim gave him a look before continuing whatever he was going to say,

"No. I don't. You've been through a lot. You were murdered…you were manipulated by your father time and time again…you were experimented on by Ra's al Ghul…you were raised from a young age to be a killer, it's not surprising that while you try as hard as you do there are some slip-ups,"

"That's not what Bruce thinks," Darren muttered darkly,

"So that's what he and Dick were talking about," Tim murmured,

"You already know don't you? You asked them before coming here didn't you?" Tim rolled his eyes,

"I have their side of the story. I want yours," So Darren told him. He said what he heard, when he decided to run, when he realized it was a dangerous thing to do and when he decided to talk to Livia. He even told him about their conversation but he didn't mention their kissing. Not quite yet. But Tim only grinned at him before saying,

"You like her don't you?" Darren shifted, slightly uncomfortable…he never talked to anyone about something like this before,

"I don't think 'like' is descriptive enough of what I feel," he muttered,

"I think it's a little soon for the 'love' label," Tim remarked dryly, "but I understand. Like is never a good adjective for romantic anythings,"

"She was the only one who understood me in my moment of need. She didn't think I was a monster for killing people when she barely knew me. She knew what and who I was before now and still didn't hesitate to save my life,"

"I know. She was really worried for you when you were imprisoned by Ra's in Alaska. She helped us find you first,"

"She did?" Darren asked, looking up surprised,

"Yeah…she was pissed I didn't tell her something was wrong sooner,"

"She's going to change everything…she already has,"

"She is something different. Livia's not like any other witch…er… _magician_ we've ever encountered,"

"But is this a good thing? Is this really worth it? Is it right to drag her into my nightmare of a life. I have a target on my back. If the Court finds out about…us…no _when_ they find out, she'll have one too. Her family might have one because they all know me. Her father's Dr. Branley, did you know that?" Tim nodded mutely, seemingly ready to say something but Darren continued onwards, interrupting whatever he had planned to say, "…she doesn't know what it warrants knowing— _caring_ about—someone like me. She was already targeted once and she has little to no protection from Talons,"

"That's a bit dramatic…but yes. It won't be easy, though relationships with us never are and it will probably be especially dangerous and difficult for you, and her, but that's what makes it real. It shows our true characters and who is truly worth fighting for and with. Perhaps it won't be safe, perhaps it really will be as if you dragged her into a nightmare, but if she really does care about you, if she really does _love_ you…she'd stay by your side no matter what. That's how you'll know it's worth it…that's how you'll know it's really love," He meant what he said, every word. Nothing was simple to someone who wore a mask and lived two lives, he has lived that life and still does. That balanced duality was difficult to achieve and even harder to understand but Tim knew that the right person would understand, they'd walk that knife-thin balanced path alongside you.

Darren could tell by his expression that he only pictured Stephanie when he spoke…Tim was always honest, a bit blunt at times, but never usually talked about his emotions to such a degree. But when the situation warranted such discussion, he made sure what he said counted…and it only ever related to Stephanie. He wondered if he'll reach a moment when he'll only picture Livia when he spoke of such things…perhaps he's already reached the point and hadn't realized it…or has at least reached a milestone along that route.

He'd never experienced a true romantic attraction before—well not a real or meaningful one—though he knew that real love was never just about attraction and he knew internally that there was much _more_ to him and Livia than just that. There had always been something, some connection…but neither of them had known what to make of it until now.

Darren nodded in agreement. Tim was right, he wouldn't know now whether it was worth it, the risk of danger and death with this lifestyle meddled with a romantic relationship…but he wouldn't know unless he tried despite the danger in his life. His head slightly spun once more at the motion…reminding him that he was still healing despite getting his abilities back,

"Let's go back home Darren. It's long past time," Tim stated, standing and holding out a hand to help him up. Darren sighed and took the helping hand, it was time to face Bruce. He and Batman will have words…that's a promise.

* * *

Darren hung back once they arrived at the Cave. He didn't know what to make of this situation…he wasn't exactly used to confrontation in a verbal sense, physically he could handle anything but communicating frustration, anger and fear didn't come easy to him. This was something that was somewhat foreign. He was getting better at it, but that didn't mean he liked having to do this. Darren looked around the Cave apprehensively, as if he'd never been down here for hours a day training or sparring with the others, ignoring Bruce and Dick who stood by the computer consoles arguing in hushed tones.

Tim made his way over to them and said something to them. Darren didn't listen in, he just silently and slowly stepped closer stalling the inevitable, he'd heard too many things he didn't want to by using his enhanced hearing. Dick turned and immediately rushed over to him. He looked upset and worried and Darren tried not to shrink back as he approached. He hated making people upset…more specifically he hated making _Dick_ upset. That's all he ever seemed to do and most of the time he didn't even mean for it to happen,

"Darren, I know what you thought I said and I know it upset you but I would _never_ do that to you…I would never seriously consider that either. It was an argument and I let me temper get the better of me and when that happens I tend to be…a bit dramatic and sarcastic. I never meant what I said I promise you," he reached over to put a hand on Darren's shoulder but stopped himself, seeming to remember that Darren was not one to really turn to physical comfort when upset.

Dick sounded like he'd worried and paced and panicked for the entirety of Darren's absence. He probably worried he'd been taken again and Darren felt terrible to put him through that again. He hadn't been thinking, at all. Darren had panicked and acted on impulse to get himself out of the situation when he really should have talked to someone. He needed to listen to Dick's advice more often, but it was always hard to change tactics you were used to so quickly. And it had been a difficult few weeks for Darren, he wasn't in a good place mentally. He'd been betrayed too many times for him to think rationally when hearing someone who was his family consider—even sarcastically—locking him up with the other criminals of Gotham.

Dick eyed him, his blue eyes wide and almost pleading for him to understand. Darren took a deep breath and reached out putting a hand on Dick's shoulder,

"I know…I-I wasn't thinking. I heard what you said and just panicked and ran. I needed to get out and clear my head and I _do_ know you would never do that to me. I really do," perhaps he wasn't one to seek physical contact for comfort, but Dick was. And a hand on a shoulder was as much as Darren was willingly to give at the moment, but it seemed to be enough. Dick let a relieved smile grace his face, Darren giving one in return before he looked over Dick's shoulder to where Bruce stood, still by the computers. His face was blank and stern, his eyes locked with Darren's and his arms were crossed,

"But I'm not so sure about what you will do," he stated, stepping forward. Only Tim and Dick were in the Cave and they watched quietly as Darren approached Bruce. Tim leaned lightly on his bo staff, using it as a place to rest his arms but also to show that he would interfere if things got physical. Dick had no weapons on him but he stood by Tim's side…it seemed he still did not agree with the man he consider a father figure at all, a unified front against their own mentor. It was an interesting sight. He didn't feel that he deserved their support, but understood that as his friend and as his cousin it wasn't so much about what was deserved as what was _earned_ in their eyes,

"Darren listen—," Bruce started,

"No. _You_ listen," Darren interrupted him. He let his frustration and anger sizzle to the surface, giving him the strength and the courage to say what he wanted to say. He didn't care for Bruce's excuses or lies, Darren would get his point across, "I know you don't trust me…especially after Alaska…but I did _not_ intend to lose control. I _did_ not intend to kill those people and I will _not_ say I didn't think they deserved what they got. But I also know it was wrong and I understand that isn't what I should do. It's not the right way to do things.

"I will _try_ to follow your rules and I will try to keep myself in check but I cannot guarantee that I won't do what I think is right in the moment. I can't conform myself to your morals instantaneously because I wasn't _raised_ with them. I never got the chance for that. But despite all that you need to consider which is more important: the _safety_ of the people or _your_ set of morals. Either you _bend_ , and let me do what I am able to do—like you do for Jason, or people will get hurt—,"

"—are you threatening—," Bruce started, eyes narrowing,

"—let him finish," Tim snapped, and Bruce looked over at him as if surprised by his outburst. He seemed to realize then that Dick and Tim were on Darren's side and that his priorities were being brought into question,

" _No_ , this isn't a threat. But you need to realize, to _see_ , that if I can't stay here because you are so insistent on forcing others to be _exactly_ like _you_ then I'll be out in Gotham either on my own or living with Dick putting thousands at risk daily as both the Court and Ra's al Ghul are after me. Would you willingly let the people of Gotham face that kind of danger that could have been easily prevented if you'd given me some leeway…some understanding…in that I am still trying to set myself on that path of actually considering right and wrong? Would you seriously let that happen just because I'm not a perfect example of all things moral? Because I'm an _assassin?_ " Perhaps shouting at him wasn't the best idea but he needed to get this through to Bruce that not everyone can be like him and that doesn't mean they're criminal when they aren't,

"I _want_ to do good. I _want_ to help people. I _want_ to be a protector…but I can't do it with the constant weight of shame that slipping up causes me. I can't do that knowing you think I'm a monster for doing what I was _raised_ to do" Darren had to admit he did get a little choked up as he spoke…confronting this final weight on his shoulders—his final fear—was difficult but liberating, all his frustrations, fears and guilt swirled around inside him ready to burst…but he shoved that back it wasn't time to dwell on what had happened in the past it was time to try and change for the future, "I am not a monster and I don't want to be…but I need to feel and be somewhat free in order to even try and get to where you all are. I'm playing catch up and while we don't have the same morals…I'm willing to try and learn them," Bruce's hard gaze softened slightly and Darren swore a small smile graced his lips as he spoke,

"I may have overreacted on your recent…slip up…you were cornered, you were on your own and more importantly you are young. I should have consider those things. The fact that you are willing to _learn_ says more about you than any murderous actions do,"

"Well…is it really murder if it was self-defense?" Darren couldn't help but say, Bruce let out a sigh, a flash of irritation flickering across his face,

"I don't think that applies for what happened after you busted the dungeon door down," he growled a slight sneer in his tone, but seemed to let it pass going on no further than that,

"I…I guess you're right about that," Darren muttered, "I will try," he stated again, as if Bruce hadn't heard him the first time,

"We'll work on it…I have faith that you can do better than before. You have come a long way from beforehand," with that the conversation was over. The confrontation was over. But it felt as if it wasn't. Perhaps they had said all they could say in the moment, but there was much that wasn't said as well. And Darren couldn't help but feel that, just like with Slade, whatever he and Bruce had once had shifted and changed. He couldn't trust Bruce, not when he still thought of Darren as nothing more than another Talon, and not when Darren wouldn't completely bend to his rules.

But it was something, and Darren would welcome that…for now.

* * *

A/N: Agh...I hope you liked this chapter. I had such a great idea and format for this that I thought up right before I went to sleep one night, but then I fell asleep and lost it all...so this was hopefully still as good as what I had originally come up with. It is along the lines of what I had thought up but I'm worried about the characterization of Bruce. Usually I'm pretty solid with him, but for some reason in this part of the series I'm struggling with him a bit(in my opinion). Also with Tim, I hope I didn't really stray too much from his characterization.

Again, hopefully you guys liked this! Let me know your thoughts, questions and concerns and I will try to respond as best I can!

Something interesting I thought of while editing this chapter, Darren uses a lot of "I" statements, which are typically taught in middle school health class or something(5th/6th grade - 7th/8th grade or ages 10/11 - 13/14 - I put that in there since there are non-American people reading and their schooling levels may be different than ours) for apologies. It's basically the 'proper' or 'correct' or 'most effective' way to apologize for something you have done. I just found it significant because I had Darren use such statements when saying to Bruce that he wanted to change his ways but he also still acknowledges that he messed up and hoped that Bruce would understand why he did what he did. Darren has never really done something like this so using the "I" statements was something I somewhat unconsciously had him do. Just something cool I thought was worth noting!

Next chapter on Thursday PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!


	38. Chapter 38

A/N: I am on the last chapter! Finally! I'm so happy! I may switch around a few things a bit and I still need to edit everything. But I am on the last chapter finally!

I also just really want to say I appreciate everyone who is commenting but a few more reviews per chapter would be really nice. I know that perhaps people feel they don't have anything to say/contribute or that they don't have the time, but any review good or bad, big or small really goes a long way and gives the author a huge confidence boost. So please try and review.

Also Happy New Year, I forgot to say that in the other chapter!

Here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 38

Darren was hunched over some schoolwork when he heard the door open. It was probably Alfred with his next meal, without looking up and continuing his work Darren stated,

"Can you please put it on the nightstand Alfred. I'm just going to finish this and then I promise I'll eat it," perhaps the promise part was unnecessary but he'd finally convinced everyone to back off with the Red Watches and he didn't want people to think he wasn't eating again, therefore setting up food watches instead. That probably wasn't a thing but he wouldn't put it past them,

"Is that really anyway to greet someone bringing you food?" a voice, that was not Alfred's, stated with a snort. Darren's head shot up,

"Livy!" he cried surprised, a smile lighting his face,

"I thought I'd pop by and see if everything's been worked out. Alfie was just going to bring you your lunch so I nabbed it and brought it up instead,"

"I wasn't being rude…I'm just…behind," Darren grumbled, letting out a sigh, gesturing to the pile of papers and books scattered on the comforter,

"Well that is understandable," she stated, "But you still got to eat," she pushed back a strand of hair as she meandered over with the tray "Scooch your caboose," Darren obliged, pushing his books and papers onto the other side of the bed and she sank down alongside him putting the tray over both their legs,

"Don't you have dance?" Darren asked as he tucked into his food. It had become easier to eat upon his second return. Perhaps it really had been psychological afterall. Or really rather knowing what he had done and knowing how others would react which prevented him from eating. Or perhaps it was something else entirely. What mattered now was that he was eating and mending,

"It starts later today. Our instructor has a doctor's appointment,"

"Nothing serious?"

"Nothing she can't handle," Livia assured him, giving him a smile. Darren finished off the plate and helped Livia place it on the nightstand next to her. Silence reigned for a few moments, but it wasn't exactly a comfortable one. Livia seemed…nervous, tense even,

"I'm glad you're here," Darren said, it was true…but it seemed she didn't feel the same way. Did she regret the kiss? Did she feel differently for some reason? Darren tried not to fidget with uncertainty, he instead shifted into an almost unnatural stillness. Something only Talons could do effectively…it was something ingrained in him from a young age,

"Things…they won't be awkward will they?" Livia asked, looking at him with a small frown. Her eyes were big and green, luminous flecks of gold easy to pick out with his enhanced vision. He could count them if he wanted to, instead he focused on what she said and his answer,

"Why would it be?" he asked,

"Well…I mean…we were friends…and now we're—," she paused as if searching for the word,

"—not?" Darren finished for her. Livia nodded,

"We're something else now,"

"But why would that change us being friends? From what I understand, romantic relationships are friendships…you're just more intimate. The emotions attached to the relationship are different. The feelings are different, actions are different, reactions are different…but you're really just spending time with a really, really, really good friend that perhaps you'll want to spend the rest of your life with," Livia seemed lost for words but she grinned and leaned over, planting a kiss firmly on his lips, "What was that for?"

"Nothing. I'm just grateful you're not like everybody else,"

"I am literally nothing like anyone else,"

"I know. What work are you doing?"

"History," Darren groaned, "I'm going to be a sophomore forever,"

"No you're not,"

"At the rate I will be doing this through July,"

"Then I'll help you go a little faster," Livia stated, reaching for a paper, "Are you doing the French Revolution? I'm an expert,"

"Is that because you read the teacher's mind?" Darren asked, smiling innocently. She smacked him lightly on the arm,

"Why I'd never…but yeah, yes. I did do that," she stated, but she shrugged as if to say 'what can a girl do?'

"I'm beginning to think you may be a terrible influence on me,"

"It's not like I'm encouraging mass murder," Darren flinched a little at that and Livia grimaced, realizing what she'd said,

"Sorry. I…shouldn't have said that,"

"No, it's okay. Hopefully it'll never happen again,"

"And maybe someday you'll figure out where you stand. You'll find firm and balanced ground. And that is okay too," Livia replied, a comforting tone in her voice,

"Will it be okay?" Darren asked, he had his doubts,

"Perhaps that's all it can be. I still have faith in you Darren. Don't let the doubt win over you," Darren slumped over, resting his head on her shoulder,

"I'm too tired for work,"

"Are you sure you're not just being lazy?"

"I've worked on that for hours,"

"And it's a very fine paper," Livia stated, holding it up,

"You haven't read it,"

"Do you really want me to?" she asked raising an eyebrow,

"Nope," he stated, snatching it from her. Though he grinned he probably still seemed really down because she frowned at him,

"Are you really okay?" Darren grimaced, "You can talk to me Darren,"

"I…well…I still don't feel like myself. I have my abilities back, I'm eating more and more than I have before…but I still don't feel strong. I still don't feel energized. I feel bored. And upset. And _useless_. They're all out there doing things and I'm stuck in here… _again_. Just like I was when they first got me away from the Court," Livia shifted so she was lying on her side facing him on the pillow, Darren shifted in a similar matter, their knees touching just under the covers that were pushed back by Darren's feet,

"Then get stronger. You're eating, you have energy now. Your eyes aren't that golden anymore. I can see the blue-grey peeking through. _Train_. It's time. You can do it,"

"I know…but they might not let me," Livia gave him a crooked smile,

"And that's going to stop you?"

"I've broken a lot of rules already,"

"They can't keep you from doing something you love. It's what you want and more importantly it's what you _need_. I'm sure they know you're still down but they're also unsure of what it is exactly that's bothering you therefore they don't know what you need,"

"Is this your complex way of telling me to talk to them?"

"That and fuck what they believe, you know the code,"

"That will just get me into more trouble," Darren said, grinning slightly, "I think you really are a bad influence on me,"

"I'm a saint," she replied, her tone hinted that she was sarcastically offended and caused the both of them to laugh. Darren let out a yawn, cutting off his laughter,

"I'm tired," he muttered in explanation, "I haven't been sleeping well,"

"Nightmares?" Livia questioned,

"Insomnia," Darren insisted, a frown marring his features. Denial was easier than admitting to it,

"Nightmare induced insomnia?" she lightly demanded, raising an eyebrow in a knowing matter,

"Both," he growled, relenting through a compromise. Livia sat up and reached into her bag, which appeared out of nowhere. At least Darren was certain there was no bag with her when she walked in,

"Well I know the perfect way for you to get a nap in," she held up a book with a grin,

"I'm not reading,"

"No silly, I'll read to you," she scooted even closer and held up the book so he could see it as well and started to read. He glanced at the words as she read but he mainly listened to her voice, his head resting on her shoulder,

"I like this book," he said after a few chapters,

"It's one of my favorites. I think I loaned you an extra copy I had, I'll set you up with an audiobook. Harry Potter _is_ a modern classic," she stated, her face lighting up as she talked about the series. Darren couldn't help but smile. He liked how she talked about the things she loved, how animated she got. He wanted to see that everyday, perhaps he could…one day, once the Court was taken care of…but for now he listened to her as she read and let his eyes grow heavy before nodding off to sleep.

* * *

Livia heard him lightly snore a few pages into chapter five, and couldn't help but chuckle. Darren's entire left side of his face was smushed against her shoulder, yet he didn't even wake as she moved off the bed as carefully as she could. She knew he was a light sleeper, but she could see the dark circles under his eyes and knew that he desperately needed this nap…or sleep, whichever it became…and therefore wouldn't wake up anytime soon. Putting the book back in her bag and picking the pieces of paper off of his bed so they wouldn't get crumpled she couldn't help but notice how…at _peace_ Darren looked while he slept. He seemed so unconcerned, not looking out behind him for a tail or surveying everyone in the room, looking for strangers or people not supposed to be there. Darren really did feel safe here. Safe enough to sleep and relax, no looking over his shoulder worrying about those in the shadows that were after him. she hoped it stayed that way. Livia hoped Bruce didn't mess things up anymore than he had before. It wouldn't do anyone any good if Batman and a Talon were at odds.

Straightening up she gently smoothed down a piece of hair that was sticking up and after a seconds hesitation, bent over and placed a feather-light kiss on his head. Darren shifted slightly but didn't wake and Livia couldn't help but grin as she reached for the tray. Carefully balancing it on her hip as she opened the door, she painstakingly closed the door inch by inch so that it wouldn't make a sound. Satisfied and pleased with herself for not using magic to just do that she turned to head back downstairs only to nearly plow into Bruce Wayne,

"Jesus Christ!" she cried, dropping the tray. Bruce's hand shot out reflexively and caught it flawlessly, only the glass falling over with a small crash,

"How is he?" Bruce asked,

"Asleep," she replied flatly. They both stared at the door, waiting for it to be yanked open. It didn't happen,

"Huh…must be really tired,"

"Perhaps," Livia stated, "He hasn't been sleeping well,"

"We know," Bruce replied with a sigh,

"I'd better take this down to Alfred. Sorry for almost walking right into you,"

"It's no problem," Bruce stated with a small grin. Livia almost felt guilty for thinking badly of him, "have a good afternoon," with that she started for the stairs,

"Oh…Livia?" He said it like an after thought, a brief consideration,

"Yeah?"

"I'm just curious. Did you exhibit any powers before coming to Gotham?" Strange question to ask for sure, random, but Livia felt no harm would come from answering it,

"No, none. Everything only started happening when I came to Gotham,"

"Hm. How peculiar," he said thoughtfully. Livia figured he would elaborate, but he stayed silent,

"I know. But I guess it was just meant to happen at some point or another. Me being in Gotham was just a coincidence," she stated with a shrug. She was halfway down the stairs when she realized she didn't think to ask him why he thought to say anything at all. It seemed as if he had been mulling about it for a while trying to find answers to some question…or some _problem_. Afterall, Bruce was a good actor as much as he was a good liar. He wanted information, and Livia had readily gave it to him. She pushed the unsettling feeling away, this was Bruce Wayne…Batman. He was just curious, there's nothing more to his question. But Livia still couldn't help but feel it was brought on by something else than a mere whim.

* * *

Darren took Livia's advice and actually talked to Dick about beginning training once again. He voiced his concerns…he even talked about how he felt cooped up again…he'd done something he'd never really been comfortable with. Of course…sometimes he did talk about certain things unconsciously but that's probably just what comes with having a friend. Or two…or maybe three…four? Darren wasn't sure if Damian counted as a friend because he was also kinda his nonlethal trainer. Perhaps he could be both. But nonetheless, Darren asked to begin training and his request was approved. He was back in action once again…and it felt great and wonderful, but it had also been a really, really, _really_ long time since he's trained.

They wanted him to go slow. They wanted him to work back up to where he was. They wanted him to be cautious. But Darren didn't listen. Not one bit. He wanted to feel the fire in his side as he ran, as he lifted weights, as he climbed the rope and pulled up onto the bar. He wanted and needed to feel that _burning_ every exercise brought. Darren needed to feel the skin on his palms rip from the bar and rope, he needed to tape and wrap them and go at it again and again. He wanted the split skin from the punching bag…he wanted to feel that he was doing something again, working again. _Fighting_ again. Darren didn't want to be _weak_ again. And he pushed himself…hard. Hours a day, every morning and evening. Darren had sworn he would never feel so helpless and weak again. And he wasn't going to back out of that promise to himself. Even if it exhausted him. Even if it hurt him. Even if it killed him.

Darren trained with a low concentration of Serum injected into his bloodstream, while he wasn't over his hatred for needles, he still needed to workout…to push himself back to where he had been before being kidnapped by Slade. In order to do that, he couldn't rely on his enhanced abilities. He couldn't count on them and if he wanted to gain back the muscle he lost…he needed to work. Hard. All out. With no abilities. He wouldn't take no for an answer, he needed this. He wanted this. This was vital to him and it would be the only way to get him to look remotely like himself for the court date. They didn't want any strange questions did they? Of course…he never waited for their answers when he asked the others this when they questioned his methods.

Perhaps he was working himself too hard. But if it made him feel better, if it made him feel useful and like himself again…it had to be worth it right? January turned into February, and he was still working hard to get back into familiar rhythms. He was still working up to the Talon exercises he'd been put through as a child up to the teen he was now. They were all programed into muscle memory, he could do them in his sleep if he wanted to, yet not at the number of reps or sets he was able to do beforehand. He needed to keep going. He could do it again, he knew he could. Darren kept training, he kept working…he kept pushing himself.

As February neared its end, Dick finally couldn't take Darren pushing himself so hard. He walked into the training room and stood at the entranceway watching Darren do muscle ups on the high bar, weights tied to the belt around his waist, with a frown on his face. Darren steadily ignored him. The others had been watching him cautiously as he trained, as if waiting for him to break like some china doll. He was a _Talon_. He faced worse than what Ra's put him through…this was just a setback, a reversible one. Darren continued on, oblivious to his cousin's gaze. Dick started over and Darren grunted, his arms trembling with strain,

"Darren stop it. You've done enough for today,"

"No…I can…I…I can do one more," Darren growled, he started to force himself up for one more rep but Dick lurched forward and grabbed him by the foot, pulling him down,

"No. You're _done!"_ Dick snarled in a tone Darren had never heard him use before. Like he was furious and hurt at the same time. Darren landed on his feet, the weights nearly forcing him over,

"You can't make me Dick! I need to keep going!" Darren yelled, eyeing the bar again and preparing to leap for it. Dick stepped closer and put a hand on his arm to stop him,

"No you don't! You are tiring yourself out day after day and you are putting that poison in your system without a care even if it can _kill_ you. You're done…for _today_. Not tomorrow. There is still time Darren. You don't need to do this to yourself," Darren glared at the hand on his arm but did not pull out of his grasp,

"I'm not doing anything to myself. I'm just…I'm just trying to get back to myself," Darren growled, trying not to let his voice crack on that. But it did. And Dick let out a sigh as if he knew why Darren was doing this all along.

"I know this has been hard on you. I know you think you have something to prove because you were captured, because you were starved and weakened and locked away…we've all been there. But there _is_ such a thing as _over_ working yourself. You need to take this slow because you can hurt yourself, especially if you train with the Serum in your blood,"

"I can't take it slow…I…I can't be useless again," Darren couldn't help but let that out. He hated the feeling…he knew Dick was right but at the same time, what if he never returned to the strength and skill he had before. What if he forever had to rely on his abilities. Abilities that could kill, maim and cripple people. Abilities that were dangerous if he lost control. It had always been a risk, even when he was better at curbing that killer instinct but now it was like all this blood lust had been replenished and wouldn't be flushed out for a while and that worried him…what if he could never be what he once was or what he wanted to be,

"You're _not_ useless. We know that… _I_ know that. You will be where you were before. But it will take _time_ ,"

"I feel like there's not enough time,"

"There is. And we can do this. But we need to do this right. We'll help you," Darren wasn't used to people helping him, he had always had to earn his place again and again with the Court, " _let_ us help you," Darren contemplated for a moment—considering the fact that Dick was right and he was acting irrationally, _desperately_. And being desperate led to mistakes—before letting out a sigh,

"Okay…you're right," Dick gave him a relieved smile, "I am also probably going to throw up now," Darren mumbled, groaning and stumbling over to the garbage. Dick didn't chuckle or think it was funny but this all was a step in the right direction.

February turned into March, with April right around the corner and Darren was better than he had been in months. He could feel it in his step, his stride. It was almost like he was humming with extra energy. He knew it down in his bones that he was himself again. Mind, body and soul. Darren had gained the weight he lost back and even gained a few more pounds of muscle. His shoulders felt slightly broader than before. Not only that but he shot up a bit again…something even Dr. Leslie was concerned wouldn't happen. Darren felt better…in fact…he felt _happy_. He was home. He was doing what he loved. And it would last…he could feel it.

The only issue was the court date. It was soon…and things were suddenly falling through the cracks, the odds were no longer in their favor due to the fact that the public somehow got wind that the Waynes had lost Darren for a certain amount of time. It was in the papers…it was in the _news_. It was _everywhere_ and the people _knew_ ,

"I don't understand, how could anyone have known I was missing?" Darren asked, eyeing the newspaper in front of him on the dining room table. He glanced at the others, everyone in the Bat clan was over, Lucius and Dr. Leslie as well,

"You said yourself, the Court has eyes everywhere," Tim muttered, "Some spy must've gotten wind that you weren't with us,"

"Or someone else might have told them. Someone with access to the Court," Bruce stated,

"What do you mean?" Dick asked,

"Someone from the Academy,"

"Derek?" Darren questioned, "That's impossible, it's not like I go to the school,"

"Are you implying I let something slip?" Tim growled, glaring at Bruce,

"No, I'm saying discussing it might have tipped one of the Powers boys off,"

"So now you're blaming Livia," Darren muttered, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms, "She wouldn't have told him. They don't know each other and she doesn't like him,"

"It doesn't matter who did what or how they got that information. The problem is they know and now the press got it out in print," Lucius said, stopping the impending argument,

"It's just rumors," Darren said, shrugging slightly letting his arms fall to his sides once more, "What's the big deal. In a few days it'll die down,"

"That's not guaranteed," Lucius replied, looking thoughtful and grave, "With this everywhere it will definitely shake things up with how the court hearing will go. The judge will see this and so would child protective services. It looks bad,"

"But this was a one time thing…it hasn't happened before and it won't happen anytime before the court hearing," Darren insisted, moving to roll a glass between his hands. He didn't want this to be a problem. He just wanted this date to come and go so that nothing was ever uncertain about who he would live with again. Lucius looked at him with an almost regretful expression,

"It may have happened only once, but it never happened when you were with the Powers," Darren could feel himself stiffen at that, tense up as a cold deep feeling of dread washed over him. The glass he was holding in his hand—it was just after breakfast when everyone arrived upon seeing or hearing of the news—shattered. Barbara who was sitting next to him jumped with surprise as the glass scattered over the tabletop,

"Master Darren," Alfred chided lightly, but he didn't seem angry, he just seemed concerned as he started wiping the pieces away,

"Darren," Dick said calmingly, stepping closer to his chair placing a hand on the back of it. A presence of him there but not a hand on a shoulder which Darren would surely shrug off,

"So you're telling me that just because they didn't lose me while I was… _with them_ …it looks better for them? They may win?" Darren growled out slowly. He didn't exactly know what he felt, whether it was anger or fear or perhaps a combination of the two that settled uncomfortable under his skin,

"It's not set in stone Darren…but it does shift the odds in their favor just a bit," Lucius looked upset as he said it, angry at the turn of events. Darren had to look away from the man, instead he focused on picking some of the glass out of his hand, tossing the bloody pieces on the table,

"'Just a bit' is too much," Damian snapped, he glared at all of them with his arms crossed, "The whole thing is stupid. Everyone knows the Powers are snakes,"

"But Darren has lived with them before, with no publicly known incidents," Dr. Leslie stated softly,

"So we can't just play it off as nothing, we can't make something up without substantial proof and there's no way to tell the truth and make it look good for us. Is there nothing we can do…is everything over? Have we lost before we even got to show our case?" Darren asked, looking around at all of them, trying not to sound desperate. He couldn't go back there. He just couldn't. The Court of Owls would kill him…or worse, keep him. Stuff him away in a frozen coffin until he was more obedient and therefore more useful. Everyone was silent, waiting…thinking…almost willing for there to be an answer to this problem. Finally Dr. Leslie let out a sigh, glancing at Tim and then Bruce,

"There…there is another option. An ace up our sleeve that we can use,"

"What is it?" Darren asked, straightening up eager for a solution,

"Anything is great at this point," Stephanie agreed. She'd been silently surveying the conversation, worriedly twisting a strand of hair around her finger. She sat by Tim, who was across from Darren with the fingers of one hand drumming on the table. Dick stood and Barbara sat in front of him. Bruce was at the head of the table with Damian sitting on Stephanie's other side. Lucius stood by the entrance and Leslie pulled out a file from her bag, stepping closer to the table and set it out in front of Darren. He, with a careful glance at Leslie, opened that file before glancing up confused,

"My X-rays?" He questioned, "What will these do?" Tim let out a sigh that he seemed to be holding,

"Uh…well—," he started, as if unsure about how to phrase the answer,

"With these X-rays we can tie the injuries you had in the past to Shepard Powers. If we used these in court, he could be tried and jailed for child abuse," Bruce answered for him. Darren blinked owlishly at the X-rays. Unsure of what to say or do,

"Isn't this wrong?" he blurted out, "he didn't do most of this," he heard to groan of wood as Dick's grip tightened on the back of his chair as his cousin winced at his words. 'He didn't do _most_ of this.' It must have sounded pretty perverse to them all as everyone in the room shared a look. Some of it was from the Court of Owls, his great-grandfather, other Talons…even some of his year-mates…but some injuries _were_ from Powers. Even so, he didn't say it the way he thought it. That this was wrong because it was a bit like framing someone for something they didn't exactly do. It was a lot of what assassins did, or mercenaries or all in all…it was something people like them _didn't_ do. Bruce seemed to sense this and stood, calmly walking over to where Darren sat and crouched down in front of him. Bruce looked him right in the eyes, serious and stoic,

"Did he hurt you?" Darren bit his lip but nodded. Powers had done that…it was true, "Did the authorities know, did anyone do anything?" Darren paused, considering…which he really didn't need to do, everyone knew the answer to that…he shook his head no,

"Then what _he_ did was wrong and illegal. He should be put away for this,"

"But this is lying, even if it is just a little bit. Yet, you had them ready, you were going to use them anyway!" Darren accused, looking around at all of them,

"They were always back up, but we weren't going to use them unless you agreed to it," Tim spoke up quickly, "it's your decision,"

"Your choice," Barbara stated from beside him,

"You really honestly think this looks so bad? That we couldn't win?" He demanded. Darren wanted desperately for there to be any other solution than this. Steph looked up from where she sat, now scanning over the section of the paper where the article about his disappearance was,

"They did say it was a rumor, this could still work in our favor,"

"Steph, ever the optimist," Tim muttered affectionately, she gave him a smile that came off as more of a grimace,

"We don't have solid evidence that Darren was with us, and we cannot get caught in a lie. This is our best bet, it is the truth even if all the injuries were not Shepard's doing. We can and will do this but not at the expense of your comfort," Bruce stated seriously. All eyes turned to Darren and he couldn't help but feel that perhaps this choice was too much even for him, even if he wanted the freedom to decide what he wanted in life. As much as he wished he didn't have to expose himself like this, he knew it was the only real shot they had at keeping whatever advantage they had before his disappearance got out. He let out a sigh, looking up from the X-rays at everyone there at the table…all willing to sacrifice their time and even their lives to help him when they didn't have to,

"Y-you seem to think it's the only way…I say we do it. I-I don't want to go back to the Powers, ever again,"

"A wise choice," Lucius stated, perhaps there was a hint of pride in his tone,

"A brave choice," Leslie lightly corrected, giving Darren a kind smile before she turned serious once again, "There is no guarantee he will be put away…but it will keep the Court and the law breathing down the Powers's necks long enough to keep them off your back for a while. If this does go through there will be another court date, this time an actual trial where you will have to testify," Darren must have looked panicked at that because Dick put a gentle hand on his shoulder this time,

"But that won't be for a while, breathe," Darren let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Then another one. And a third. He hated thinking about this, he just wanted it all to end. And hopefully sooner than later it will.

* * *

A/N: Wow. I forgot how long this chapter was. I hope you really really liked this chapter. One worrisome thing about overcoming an injury for any athlete is getting back to where you were after recovering from an injury. It's literally the worst thing ever because you're so used to everything feeling and being the way it has always been, but with an injury everything is all out of wack. It is honestly the thing I most worry about with martial arts. If I get hurt the recovery time and the time I'll need to physically be where I once was is sooooo long in my head. So I understand Darren's mindset(it's why I wrote it that way, plus it fits with his character) regarding recovery, even if it is somewhat unhealthy-never force yourself when working out.

P.S - (just saying) Darren probably totally looked up what a relationship meant online before Livia came over

Please leave some reviews. It'll make my day and I'll feel so much better about everything, including this story's course. Let me know your thoughts, comments and questions and I'll reply to some of the reviews in the next chapter if I can!

All in all REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Next chapter on Thursday.


	39. Chapter 39

A/N: I really hope you liked the last chapter. Some more reviews would be really nice and helpful. Let me know your thoughts! I'd really appreciate it!

Anyway, here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 39

A knock sounded on Livia's window, sending her tumbling out of a dream and upright in a slight panic. Shaking off whatever lurking dream trying to lure her back to sleep she glanced at her phone, it was one in the morning. The knock sounded again and she pushed back the covers, ignoring the chill and pulled back the heavy curtains to reveal Darren looking back at her. Wind ruffled his hair and he wasn't in his Renegade suit. He wore a thick sweatshirt and jeans, not nearly warm enough for him in the cold. Livia hurriedly pulled open the window and Darren clamored in onto her bed, kicking off his shoes as he did so. Quickly closing the windows and the curtains, Livia sat back fighting off a yawn as Darren just sat there with his back against the wall of her room. He seemed frazzled and there were still dark circles under his eyes, none of them had faded…it seemed they had even gotten worse,

"You didn't run away again did you?" Livia blurted out. Perhaps it wasn't the most welcoming thing to say, but Darren had a habit of doing that. Whether it be from the Court or from his own family. It's not like he didn't have a good reason to run, but sometimes he tended to act instead of think. Vital for fighting, but terrible for interpersonal relationships. Darren actually let out a small bark of laughter before shaking his head,

"No," was all he said, "I didn't run away. I left a note this time. They know where I am,"

"Why are you even out right now. You should be asleep, you look like you need it,"

"I—I can't," Darren muttered, "I just can't…not right now,"

"Why not, what's the matter?" Livia asked, patting the space next to her. He crawled over to her, jostling the bed a bit before settling in between the wall and Livia. His hair was a mess, like he had dug his fingers through it harshly and repeatedly,

"I…I'm scared," he whispered the words…almost as if he were embarrassed to say it himself, "I don't want to go back there, to them. The court date is in two days and I might have to live with them again,"

"Darren—," Livia started,

"I…I didn't think it affected me so much. The possibility of living with them again. I thought it would be nothing to me. But I just keep thinking and thinking of all my years being there with the Powers…how I hated the Nest, being trained by the Talons yet I preferred the Nest to the Powers when I was there with them. I can't do it. I can't go back to the Powers. I was so sure there wasn't a possibility, especially with the fake will, but now that the public knows the Waynes lost me…everything is falling apart and it is all because I was too stupid to see through my father's lies!" he spoke faster and faster, until it was a jumble of hysterics. Livia leaned over and put a hand on his shoulder,

"Darren, stop. Calm down and breathe," she said firmly. Darren did just that, closing his eyes and bowing his head,

"I feel so helpless again Livia. I _hate_ this,"

"You have a plan. You have Bruce Wayne, Lucius Fox and Dr. Leslie all willing to back you up and get Shepard behind bars," Darren shifted uncomfortably at that, bringing his knees up to his chest,

"I don't know if it is a good idea. It might do more harm than good,"

"Why isn't it a good idea? This man hurt you Darren, on purpose!" Livia hissed, "He deserves what he'll get,"

"A lot of people have hurt me on purpose in my life," Darren shot back, not missing a beat and Livia couldn't help but grimace at that. It wasn't a false statement, and it didn't sound good no matter how calmly he said it. The fact sounded morbid and hollow, "I don't know how I feel about revealing the…abuse to the public. I don't know if it will change anything,"

"I know how uncertain this all may seem, but nothing is written in stone Darren. Just because the public knows about your disappearance doesn't mean they will force you back to the Powers. The future is written on water, the actions you take and the choices you make cause ripples in the water and that shifts and changes what will happen. Perhaps telling the truth about Shepard would push things in your favor and more importantly it will put someone who is terrible behind bars,"

"That's only if he gets convicted and sentenced," Darren muttered, "We only have X-rays and my testimony…and no one would step up in my favor,"

"It will work out,"

"You don't know that,"

"It must,"

"It can't. I might as well just accept it,"

"No. Don't you dare think like that. Darren, I know you are afraid, I know this seems helpless…but there are powerful people who are on your side. They will not place you in the home of someone who has abused you no matter who they are, no matter what else they know and no matter how much they've been bribed by the Powers or the Court," Darren didn't say anything, just stared down at his hands, leaning up against one of her pillows and the wall. His eyes seemed so full of dread and hopelessness. It was a scary sight to see, it almost hurt her physically to see him this way. Things had seemed to be on the mend for him, he was better now. He was fitter, healthier…for the most part happier…but all of a sudden this one worrisome thought pulled him right back down into the abyss of despair he was in after they brought him home from Alaska and when he arrived at her bedroom, exhausted and convinced he was going to be thrown in prison by Bruce and the rest of his family.

She scooted closer to him, not even caring that her hair was a mess or that she was so tired she'd be snoring by now even if he'd come just for a regular visit that they had before in the past,

"Tell me what I can do to make this better. What can I do to help you," Darren didn't like talking about his feelings, he avoided confronting how he felt and it was bottled up sometimes to the breaking point. She knew this, experienced this before…and despite his detest to it, he chose to come to her tonight. He trusted her to help him and she was not going to fail him. He looked up at her then, his light blue-grey eyes almost translucent in the dim moonlight that peeked through the curtains,

"Just…just let me hold you. Let me feel. Let me feel loved and calm. Let me know that peace is attainable…that it's possible for me. Be here with me, be near me…wake up with me," he sounded like he was almost pleading with her,

"Of course," was all she said, moving over and settling into his arms. They encircled her gently, as if he was afraid of breaking her. With his strength, it was possible but she knew he wouldn't do such a thing, even by accident. She trusted him, "Whatever you need." They lay like that, side by side together, silently listening to one another breathe. With her head on his chest she could listen to his heart, it beat so slowly. Only a Talon's heart beat like that, though even if it was slow, it was rhythmically soothing. Darren's fingers lightly threaded through her hair for a moment before moving to trace the veins on her wrist, they were feather light and he slowly stilled his tracing, pressing two fingers to the inside of her wrist, as if taking her pulse. She looked up at him wonderingly, a question on the tip of her tongue but he beat her to it,

"Sometimes…sometimes I can't even feel my heat beat. You know…how you can just feel it there, pulsing…pumping blood all throughout your body. You just know it's there and doing that, you can feel it, every time you breathe. I can't feel it sometimes…I can only remember it from before I was turned into a Talon. I sometimes wonder…if in time…whether I'll remember it at all," he let her wrist go, just holding her to him and Livia suddenly understood that he was tracing the inside of her wrist as if tracing the movement of life. It was as if he was worried he would lose his understanding of it later…like he would turn into the mindless Talon his great-grandfather was, "Sometimes I wonder whether this is real. _All_ of this. Sometimes I worry that this is really just me on ice, in some coffin deep under the compound of the Nest. Captured from Alaska or even from before everything started. Like this is all some… _coma dream_. It terrifies me to consider that…I don't want that to be the case," he said it carefully, as if Livia would judge such a confession.

He was pouring his deepest darkest fears and worries to her, perhaps he was just feeling a bit melancholy. As if the impending court case weighed more heavily on him than he even realized and he knew he needed to take this load off before it happened or else he would burst from it all. Livia looked up at him before rising to her knees, he sat up too crossing his legs as she pulled herself closer to him, almost straddling him.

She pressed her forehead to his, placing both hands on either side of his face, kissing both sides of his cheeks just under his eyes,

"Does that feel real?" she asked, he shuddered slightly, from pleasure or from the chill the room suddenly held she didn't know,

"Yes," he whispered. Livia smiled and lightly kissed his nose,

"Does that feel real?" she asked again and he nodded, a slight and small smile curling across his lips,

"Yes," he murmured. She kissed him on the lips, long and sweetly and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, if possible, to him. She pulled back and placed her forehead to his once more,

"Does that feel real?" Livia asked one final time,

"Yes," he said, his voice stronger and more decisive than before,

"Does this feel real?" she asked. Meaning them, where they were, what they meant to one another, how they felt about one another,

"Yes, it does," he replied,

"Then everything is real. _This_ is real. _We_ are real. And you are _alive_ Darren. You and I, we are alive and we are living. And that is what is important. That is what matters. Don't doubt that for a minute because that is the truth," Darren buried his head into the crook of her neck, his forehead pressed against her collarbone, holding her as she held him in an embrace that settled both their nerves, an embrace that soothed them and their fears and insecurities. Something that was meaningful to them both in different ways before they settled back down as they had before, in each other's arms letting the calm and peace settle them as they fell asleep wrapped around one another.

When Livia woke to the sound of her father knocking on her door she never thought the sight of an empty bed would feel so surprisingly painful. The fact that she felt there should be someone beside her, and then realizing they weren't there sent an ache through her chest yet she knew Darren couldn't be there when it was time for her to wake up. She'd been there with him when he woke, only she had been asleep in that moment, but that was just what he needed. Someone there, someone he needed…and that had been her.

Things do change—time, hobbies, people…relationships—but it was real…and that's all that mattered.

* * *

Darren glared at himself in the mirror. The suit felt too tight in the shoulders, the tie like a noose. It didn't feel right. Today was the day and there had been a lot of fussing around. Like this would be the performance of a lifetime…and perhaps it was. Darren himself felt sick to his stomach, nerves made it feel like he'd be sick at any moment. But Alfred had sat him down and slide a plate of food in front of him. Darren had stared at it, gripped with uncertainty, unsure of whether he should eat it at all or not. He didn't reach for the fork and he looked back up at the butler with apprehension. Alfred wasn't Harold, but they raised their eyebrow in almost the same way when slightly annoyed and that fact unnerved Darren,

"Alfie…I, I don't think I can—,"

"— _Eat,"_ it wasn't a suggestion, and Darren with a sigh lifted the fork and ate the food. That food sat uncomfortably in his stomach and he couldn't help but wonder how this day could go wrong. Everything was so carefully constructed, their allies and witnesses were hidden so well that the Court hadn't been able to touch them, but after this…Darren couldn't help to worry about what would happen to Dr. Leslie and Lucius Fox. Perhaps the Court will deem them unimportant since their part was played and they can't change anything by eliminating them…or they would be vengeful and try to kill them anyways. Darren had warned them countless of times about this. Urging them not to do this, but they hadn't listened to Darren. They seemed to think he was worth the risk.

Darren moved to rub his eyes tiredly but stopped himself, looking tiredly at the mirror. His sleeping has gotten worse as the court date drew nearer. The circles under his eyes so dark and noticeable that Barbara insisted on putting makeup over them to hide them from the judge, the press and public. She'd insisted and her points were valid…but now Darren couldn't touch his face and it was annoying the crap out of him. Looking at himself he realized the makeup had been a good idea…he looked like himself. Still a bit tired, but he didn't look like a zombie—as ironic as that was.

Today was the court date. Something he'd been looking forward to for a long time. Something he thought they could win hands down…but now there were problems and complications and he would have to reveal a part of himself to the public, a piece of himself that still made him feel small and helpless…which he despised others knowing. It was something he was not comfortable sharing, it was something he'd rather not think about or use in his favor. But there was little to no choice in the matter. No backup plans other than his X-rays, it was the only viable way they could think of that would fix their problem the quickest.

They couldn't wait any longer. The Court wouldn't sit idle forever, and they had already tried to get him back. It won't be long before they search for other means to control him. And there were so many people they could now use. He tried not to think of everyone he cared about, of Livia and her family who she loved so much and would probably do anything for. Yet she has also done so much for him. And that was dangerous, he was dangerous. But that still hadn't stopped her.

He allowed a small smile at the thought of her but then became serious once again. This was an uncertain court case, one that he could potentially lose. Darren needed to accept that possibility, as much as he hated it and as much as it pained him to consider. He wanted more than anything to live with Dick…for him to be his guardian. But that was still up in the air. Unless they used his X-rays, they would work. They had to work, he couldn't go back to the Powers. He would do anything to prevent that even if he didn't like it. Even if he was fearful of the outcome.

A knock on his door caused him to jump and he rushed to open it before the person could jostle the doorknob. Since returning to the Manor, Darren found that doors opening with no warning threw him into a slight panic. The first time it had happened he'd fled into the bathroom and wouldn't open that door for twenty minutes. The others now knocked, unless there were extreme circumstances like a nightmare, before entering his room. But the sound of the doorknob was still loud and jarring for Darren, even if there was no lock and key like the dungeon in Alaska.

Darren shook his head, blinking back to the present and out from the thoughts swirling in his mind, Dick was standing before him. He looked as nervous as Darren felt, though he knew the nerves would vanish from his expression and stance as soon as they got to the Courthouse. He looked gravely at Darren, surveying him from head to toe…looking for things to fix before letting out a sigh,

"It's time to go," Darren wanted to say something sarcastically snarky like _'yeah, I figured'_ but the words cut off in his throat. Instead he just nodded and started out the door. Dick put a hand on his shoulder, comfort Darren needed even if he didn't usually want it. In this case, he did. Darren didn't shake it off, he instead look at Dick almost pleading with him to make time jump forward to after the decision was made…after all the paperwork and the talking and the evidence and the witnesses or testimony. But he couldn't do that. No one could. They needed to go through with this and make it work. They needed to make themselves _win_. Dick just gave him a grimaced smile,

"Today's the day." It was, and not in any good way.

* * *

A/N: Finally the long awaited court date! Woowho, we finally made it. Just gonna quickly say that custody cases vary state to state and country to country so this one in the fic may not be exactly accurate for where you live. Additionally I'm not a lawyer, I don't necessarily know all the proceedings and format down to a tee and I also don't really know what lawyers say for certain things or the judges. But I have tried my best to research such things and to the best of my ability work out an accurate and enjoyable court case in the next chapter.

Also, a quick explanation on the whole X-ray evidence thing. It is common for past injuries such as broken bones to show up on X-rays, same with other internal injuries on MRIs, but only up to a certain time if the internet is correct. I'm kinda waiving that time limit for the sake of the story.

I would really like some reviews. I would really love to know what you guys are thinking of this story and the way it's going? Is it getting boring, is it dragging on? Do you want more action? Do you not like certain characters or how I wrote a certain character? I need to know this because these stories aren't just written for my own entertainment, they are written for _you_. So I need reviews to communicate what people like and dislike.

Thanks for reading! Hope you liked this chapter! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

And next chapter on Thursday!


	40. Chapter 40

A/N: I've done it! I've finished this story! I've actually started on the next one, I'm half-way through chapter 1 and I've typed out a timeline/outline for about 20 chapters...but...I still need to plan and make sure the pace is right and that I'm tying up all the necessary plot-points that need to be tied up. So I still need to get that sorted out, and I need to make sure it makes sense. But I'm so happy that I finally started the next story.

As for when I will begin posting this story, I don't know as of yet. I will wait until I finish posting this story before saying anything on that.

Anyway, here is the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters and I am not a lawyer or judge so...yeah, do with that what you will.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 40

Darren sat at the table. Dick sat next to him and beside Dick was Lucius. Bruce, Barbara and Dr. Leslie sat a row behind them. Voices echoed throughout the large and elaborate courtroom. There were rows of wooden seats on the main floor and up above, faded dark green carpets on the floor and everything was painted a blindingly reflective white. The whole place covered by a vaulted domed ceiling that threw every single sound into cavernous echoes. Darren hated it. He could hear everything. Every sound, every scratch of wood, every breath, every heartbeat, every door that opened or closed and every single tick of the clock in the back of the room which hung over the main doors. It was sensory overload for him. He wanted to curl up in a ball and cover his ears to at least try and block the sounds out, but he couldn't do that not with everyone there watching his every move. So he sat still, a wooden table in front of him, rigidly. Clutching the sides of his chair, facing forward. He felt trapped and he couldn't stand the feeling. Walls everywhere, enemies everywhere, people he wanted to protect in harms way. His instincts screamed to fight something, they screamed that danger was near…but there was nothing to fight, nothing to be wary of. Even so, it was like he was missing something and couldn't quite figure out what it was.

He searched the rafters with his eyes, swept every nook and cranny—though he avoided looking over at Lydia and Shepard, sitting across from him and Dick. He hadn't looked over once and he didn't plan to anytime soon—trying to find the hidden Talon, the mysteriously clothed person, the person who shouldn't be there…anything out of place. Anything that shouldn't be there. Darren knew he wouldn't find anything. There wasn't anyone there. No imposters or hitmen, no one to make this end with danger and casualties but he couldn't escape the feeling that he was being watched.

Darren glanced behind him, looking over the rows of press members. They all sat on one side, recorders ready, microphones set up and pens with pads of paper out. They shifted restlessly as well, eager for their next scoop of news. Usually custody cases were opened to the entire public, Bruce pulled strings so that very few people were allowed to be at the court hearing. Though having the press there might have defeated any purpose of his string pulling. Everyone would find out what happened mere hours after the hearing was over with. One reporter caught his gaze and held it. A well built man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes covered by glasses, he wore a light blue suit and held no recorder or pen and notebook, which Darren found really odd. He gave Darren a small smile, and Darren spun back around, retaking his rigid posture and ignoring the feeling of the man's gaze still on his back,

"Darren, breathe," Dick whispered to him, "I know you hate being in an enclosed room with fifty strangers and the people you ultimately despise, but all we have to do is get through this. I hate to tell you this but you need to act relaxed and calm,"

"I know," Darren hissed back, "…but I can't help feeling—," he was cut off by the announcement to stand for the judge. The court hearing was starting…and it was time to turn the tides.

* * *

As court cases go, this was probably a rather unique one. Both parties couldn't come to some agreement for joint custody, one party had custody of Darren under false pretenses, the other is his cousin yet is also the grandchild of an illegitimate child of Amelia Crowne…but still biologically related to him. There was a lot of looking over the forms, discussing them and boring stuff like that. Darren honestly didn't pay attention, he missed half of what was said as he scrunched down in his chair and tried to massage the headache that was forming right behind his eyes. He wished he'd gotten more sleep the past week, it was hitting him harder by the second. Hopefully this goes by quickly…hopefully they stop and listen to Lucius.

Leaning back in his chair Darren slowly slid his gaze to where the Powers sat across the room from them. Lydia sat with her back rigid and stared intently ahead. Shepard seemed more relaxed, Darren didn't like that but perhaps the idiot didn't know the gravity of the situation. It was only Lydia and Shepard, Derek and Erik were at school as were Livia, Tim and Stephanie. Darren wished they could all attend the court case but apparently custody battles did not count as an excused absence, even if it did include a family member and friend,

"While there is, beyond a doubt, evidence that the will of Amanda Crowne was fake and that the Powers did indeed know the possibility of it's falseness…I do have my doubts about how effective Mr. Grayson will be at being the guardian of Darren. It is my understanding that he went missing for a week or two a few months back," the judge stated, looking pointedly from one side of the room to the other. It seemed the man had no favorites in the courtroom that day, which was promising though it was still not a favor for their side,

"Your honor," Lucius started, "If I may speak on the matter?"

"You may. I want to hear the truth of what happened,"

"Darren was with his father," Darren's head snapped to the right…why was Lucius saying that? Was that part of the plan? He didn't know this was part of the plan. Whispers leapt across the room, a wave of muted voices to Darren's ears. He grimaced and refocused his attention on the judge and Lucius. He had to have a plan,

"His father?" the judge echoed, "If there is a father in the picture, why does _he_ not claim guardianship?" Darren tried to hold back a grimace at that, but failed,

"We were determining whether that was a possibility, but he ultimately kidnapped his own son in the process," Lucius replied calmly, "An unexpected matter for sure, and a very informative one at that. He proved to be a danger to his own son and therefore we ruled him out entirely as we had before. His identity will remain confidential as per request of Darren," well…he wasn't lying. Slade did kidnap him and it was during a meet up between the two of them. Only no one else knew that Darren was alone when it all happened and that his father was a mercenary,

"And why did you not bring the proper authorities into the matter?" the judge asked, a sly grin forming as if he caught a mouse in a trap,

"Who is to say they didn't?" Lucius asked, "You do remember that Bruce Wayne, the adopted father of Richard founded Batman Incorporated. The members associated with that organization brought Darren back home safely," he answered the judge as vaguely as he could without raising even more questions or suspicions on the matter,

"That's bogus," the Powers's lawyer exclaimed, "They have to prove that! There's no evidence that shows any of this happened. There's no possible witnesses to this,"

"Proof may be impossible to get, as the people who returned Mr. Crowne work outside the law and therefore cannot stand trial or witness to any criminal acts unless the police were involved as well," the judge stated calmly, "I can only take Lucius's word…and that of both Richard and Darren…as a witness account," Lydia let out a snort at that, rolling her eyes but didn't say anything,

"That is what happened your honor, you have my word," Dick said, smiling charmingly at the judge, who nodded as if he believed him…Darren couldn't tell if he actually took Dick's word into account,

"And you young man? Is this what happened,"

"Yes sir," Darren replied nodding, not missing a beat. It wasn't a complete lie…and it was worth it if he never lived with the Powers again. The judge was silent after that, the courtroom as well save for a few people shifting in their seats or whispering into their recording devices. The Judge looked out thoughtfully at everyone,

"This is a very peculiar case. No witnesses other than for the kidnapping incident, no criminal records to be shown and debated…I am almost uncertain of what to do here," he paused and Darren clenched his hands into fists, clenching his teeth. What would the judge do? When would Lucius jump in with his X-rays…would they need them…would this work without them? He took a shaky breath, feeling almost nauseous with nerves and worries. Dick glanced over at him,

"Breathe Darren. It will be okay," Darren didn't mention that he heard his cousin's heart flutter at the lie, he just nodded and took the false comfort. Letting it wash over him, forcing his nerves to settle and sat up straighter,

"I feel I have no choice—," the judge started,

"You honor perhaps I can make this decision more certain for you," Lucius stated, standing from his seat, "If I may,"

"Well as you have interrupted me making this tough decision…I should say no, but I feel that perhaps this will bring more insight to your case than just a parental kidnapping," Darren didn't know if that meant the judge would take this seriously or if he was just being humorous…but he would just take what they got. He knew what was coming and he couldn't help but curl into himself slightly—as much as he could on a chair at a table—as Lucius began his case,

"It is my duty as both Darren's banker and lawyer to warn the proper authorities when child abuse is a factor in something such as granted custody,"

"Child abuse?" the judge echoed. Darren peeked from his protective crouch to glance at the Powers once more. Lydia was glaring coldly at Shepard, who had sat up straighter, his eyes narrowed slits. Almost as if he could sense Darren's stare, his gaze shot right to his and fury so deep and dark…anger Darren had never seen in Shepard's eyes…met his as the court room rose up in an outcry of shocked gasps and eager chatting, loudly and unyielding in his ears. Lydia was shouting something at the judge while he banged his gavel on the stand,

"Order," he shouted, "Order in the room!" All the voices shouting at different levels and different pitches made Darren want to claw at his ears, he was still adjusting to having his hearing back even if it had been a few months—to be fair Darren hadn't really gotten the hang of that right off the bat—and as the room started to quiet Shepard still glared menacingly at Darren, his posture shifting as if he would lunge out of his chair and grab him. Darren let out a strangled gasp and jerked back to facing forward, his hands clutching the wooden table grasped the edge too tight, breaking off a piece of wood loudly, just as the room reached pitch perfect quietness. The crack echoed through the building and Darren froze and looked around the room, all eyes were on him now and he ducked his head slightly trying to hide behind Dick. Lucius continued as if nothing had happened,

"It was brought to my attention by the family physician. As annual checkups go Darren was a picture of perfect health—," Darren had to bite back a laugh, he was a total mess when Leslie had first come to check up on him, "—but X-rays showed a completely different story,"

"X-rays. Correct me if I am wrong…but X-rays aren't typically part of annual check ups," the judge stated, "I have two kids myself, I would know," this judge is good, Darren thought. He doesn't let anything past him. Darren could still feel eyes on him. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end and he felt like he would jump out of his skin from it. Darren slowly glanced backwards, sweeping through the crowd until he found the same well-built reporter eyeing him…almost like he was scanning Darren's body himself,looking for the evidence of past injuries. He let out a hiss of a breath before facing forward again, forcing himself to ignore the odd sensation of all eyes on him,

"Darren was complaining of heel pain. It was a standard procedure once it was clear the pain wasn't going away. He has Sever's Disease, and it had gone undiagnosed for several years," Lucius replied calmly,

"We do not have time to subpoena a doctor to show and explain these X-rays,"

"But the doctor is already here, and we have the X-rays with us. If you would allow us some extra time," The judge considered for a moment before nodding,

"I cannot ignore a warning such as this. If any evidence shows this and lines up with her explanation…then this will have to be taken to a criminal court case," Darren could hear the Powers snapping quietly at their lawyer to do something but the poor man's hands were tied. A claim of child abuse was serious and could not be ignored no matter who explained the evidence, as long as the person subpoenaed was an expert in the field being discussed.

Dr. Leslie slowly rose and moved to the front of the room, Lucius handing her the X-rays as she passed the table. Darren zoned out, he couldn't help it. He didn't want to see his X-rays again. He didn't want to see the scar tissue and seams where bones had been broken…any internal scarring or signs of internal bruising. He didn't want to remember every time he'd been hit and stabbed, cut or broken by a master or his great-grandfather or Powers himself. He scrunched down as he heard rapid-fire whispering into recording devices by the reporters, the scribbling of pens and the gasps from the audience…if it wasn't for Dick putting a hand on his shoulder he would have been thrown into a panic attack right then and there. His heart, usually so slow and quiet, was now thunderous and his breathing uneven. The worst was that the judge, whose attention had been so intensely on Dr. Leslie now moved to him…where he sat hunched over as if he might hurl right there on the broken table,

"Breathe," Dick said, hand firm but gentle on his back…Darren didn't try to brush it off, "Calm yourself. You've done it before. Breathe," Darren almost hissed at him that he couldn't…but he instead just closed his eyes and forced himself through the calming technique that Jason taught him. It was usually a longer ordeal and better for trying to get to sleep…but it helped nonetheless. Slowing his breathing, slowing his racing heart and soothing the panicked feeling that was overtaking him. Darren sat up straighter and took another deep breath. By the time he was completely calm Dr. Leslie had finished her explanation and was heading back to her seat. She offered him a smile as she passed him, mouthing _'courage'_ at him before sitting in the row behind him. The judge looked out into the crowd before opening his mouth once more only to be interrupted by Lydia lurching to her feet,

"Your honor! Those could be fakes! If someone could fake a will they could fake X-rays!" Their lawyer tried to tug her back into her seat, murmuring,

"Mrs. Powers…please," but she fought against him, lunging back up,

"My husband would never do such a thing," Darren glowered at her, she certainly knew that he would do such a thing…and perhaps not just to him, but he didn't know how the Powers lived when he was at the Nest. Perhaps Shepard's anger was only for him and was never directed at his sons,

"Mrs. Powers, if you would please take your seat," the judge stated calmly, "I know this is hard to hear, but this is a serious accusation and needs to be handled accordingly. Until then I can only take one person's opinion into account," he looked at Darren then and Darren froze again…like a deer in a spotlight, he didn't even blink,

"Young man. Is this true. Do you wish to accuse Mr. Powers of child abuse?" Darren was silent, a sudden silence, almost like a selective mutism where he couldn't even open his mouth. It was a horrifying moment and he wondered if he would wake up somewhere else…somewhen else and everything that has happened would be revealed as a lie. A moment of silence passed once again and Darren finally found his voice,

"Yes, I do. It's true. He did it, all of it," he found himself saying, "Don't…please don't send me back to them. Please don't. I want to live with Dick," Darren stared down the judge, willing him to believe that above anything else this was the truth. This was what Darren wanted because that was the absolute truth. He wanted Dick as his guardian, he wanted the Powers out of his life forever. The judge nodded thoughtfully,

"I have come to a decision: Richard John Grayson will take full custody of Darren Jacob Crowne," the court room exploded with noise and the judge had to bang the gavel a few times to settle everyone down…he wasn't finished, "Shepard Powers will be taken into custody to await a bail hearing and a trial date. There will be time to form a case until then, both parties will be informed on information regarding this trial," Chaos exploded around the court room as people rose. Dr. Leslie and Barbara were hugging and Bruce had meandered over to the dark haired blue eyed reporter with glasses and was talking quietly to him. Reporters surged forward to get interviews and details they might have missed from the hearing.

But none of that mattered. Nothing mattered but the fact that he would never have to go to that decrepit manor house or penthouse suite in Gotham ever again. He'd live in Wayne Manor and spend time in Dick's penthouse with the people he trusted and cared about for the rest of his life. And Darren could only feel relief as Shepard was pushed through the room in handcuffs into the police cars that had been called to head down to the Precinct to await his bail hearing. Perhaps he would get out on bail…but he would never touch Darren again. The Powers would never see him or be near him again.

They had done it. They had won. Darren turned to face Dick, who looked almost inhumanly happy, and threw his arms around him in a hug. Dick froze, surprised but hugged back as camera's flashed and reporters spoke into their mics. But Darren didn't care. Everything was perfect. As Darren pulled away he caught sight of the Powers just outside the doors to the courtroom. Lydia stood before Shepard, angrily shouting at him before, slapping him across the face hissing,

"How could! That poor boy!" it was an act of course, distancing herself from guilt or knowledge of Shepard's abuse. But Darren knew better, and even as he felt as if a thousand pound weight had been lifted off his shoulders a new weight seemed to settle in place as Lydia turned her glare on him, their eyes meeting. They had only gotten rid of the brawn, the brain was still free and active…and out for blood. She also had other allies to turn to, this wasn't over. Not by a long shot. But Darren was too happy to care about that, to relieved to worry about that. He had his family by his side. He had allies who support him and people he can turn to and trust. Something he didn't have all those months ago, all those years ago.

With that in mind Darren grinned back at her, showing teeth and the daring zeal he felt within that sneer was inviting. She broke their silent and heated gaze, turning to rush down the steps to Harold waiting with their car. And Darren watched them go, following Dick and everyone else through the mob of reporters down to their car, _let them come_ he thought _let them_ try _and take me back._

* * *

A/N: Agh, I am so relieved to get this chapter done with. I was agonizing over this chapter because there are so many different rules, formalities and formats to a custody court hearing and I don't exactly know what is truth and what should be applied and what/how things should be said or done so I kind of cobbled together all of the research I gathered into this chapter. It still doesn't mean this was accurate at all but I hope you liked it nonetheless.

Hope you guys liked the cameo of a certain leaguer...I told you they'd be popping up now and again.

Any questions, comments or concerns PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! I'm missing hearing from you guys. But if you don't want to review, feel free to PM moi. I'd love to hear from you.

And just in case you thought it was over...it totally isn't. There are still quite a few chapters left in this story so tune in for those next Thursday!


	41. Chapter 41

A/N: Okay, writing update! I am already on chapter 3 for the next story. Though I has no title and I still have to edit the other chapters that are left for this story. I was actually wondering if you guys have any ideas for what the title should be. Write them in the reviews or PM moi if you do! I'd love to hear them!

Anyway, here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 41

"I don't understand," Livia stated, looking around at everyone surrounding her. She was at Wayne Manor, called over by Tim and Darren. They said it was about something important, and as they all sat facing her—their expressions grim—she couldn't help but feel a pit start to grow in her stomach. What could be so important that they called her over? What involved her that they called her over a mere few days after their custody battle win…what could be wrong so soon after that? It seemed like they were expecting some sort of fallback for their success with the case, and while she thought it was unlikely expecting something like that was probably better than getting hit with the disappointment of unexpected bad news.

While there was some celebration at the winning of the custody case, the moment has passed apparently and everyone was back in action preparing the room Darren would stay in at Dick's penthouse, signing paperwork, getting a restraining order for the Powers put together and finally putting together a case against Shepard. And the final goal included her it seemed as they explained what they needed her to do. She sat silently for a moment, staring at all of them before starting with,

"Why do you even need another doctor to explain the X-rays. You have Dr. Leslie. She did it last time and it worked!" she didn't understand why they were asking her this. Dick grimaced slightly and Tim let out a sigh,

"Dr. Leslie is the family doctor. She has a connection to us and the Powers wouldn't trust her to not lie for us if she had to…not that she would lie for us. It's just that while it isn't likely and won't fool a doctor, it is possible to create false X-rays and MRIs. It take as lot of work but it is possible and the Powers would try and find any reason to pick apart a case involving her," Tim explained. Bruce nodded and everyone else just looked grim. They all stared at her, like their entire case depended on her decision and to be honest…it kind of did,

"So you want my father to be the doctor to explain the X-rays," Livia murmured, "And you're asking me why? Shouldn't you all take this to him?"

"We could," Darren stated, looking anxious and worried—whether for the course of the criminal case that rested on her shoulders or for her sake Livia couldn't exactly tell, "But he wouldn't know or understand the extent of the issue if we brought this to him. He wouldn't know the danger or include it with the decision he makes. We could try to explain it, but we don't know if he'll believe us. The truth from his daughter might have better results,"

"Not to mention us bombarding him like this might anger him…and we honestly want to involve him as little as possible," Stephanie said, "The less he knows the better…right?" she asked looking over at Darren. He would know the gravity of the situation, he once lived with the monsters who would threaten her father's life for trying to keep one of their own from their clutches and control,

"…Right," Darren mumbled after a moments pause. He pulled at the fraying shreds at the end of his long-sleeved shirt not meeting any of their eyes. Usually a great liar he seemed to know that if he tried to look them in the eye, they would see the falsity of his statement clear as day. Livia appreciated that he acknowledged how feeble his lie was, but didn't like that he still went with it. Even so, she understood his desire for this to work out. He needed this to workout. A restraining order won't stop the Court, not even a custody win would. But putting a high-end member of the Owls behind bars would push any plans of the Owl members back and cause tension or even a rift between members at the realization that having one of their own behind bars is a risk to their secret identities as well as a risk to their plans for Gotham. Most don't truly know they still operate, and if Powers starts talking, they would be outed and potentially ruined,

"The custody case has already been decided…would the Powers somehow proving that the X-rays were fake really affect that decision," Livia questioned, "There's already a restraining order,"

"It potentially could," Tim stated, "the truth of the matter is we don't know. There's the potential for things to go right without your father's testimony, and there's a bigger potential for things to go very wrong without his testimony. And you know as well as we do that a piece of paper won't stop the Court,"

"That's a lot of potentials," Livia muttered, looking down at her hands,

"Look, Livia," Dick started, causing her to look back up at him, "The decision is up to you. We can't make you do this, we can find another way—,"

"— _no,"_ Livia interrupted, cutting herself off for a moment, thinking. She looked at each one of them. They were her friends, Darren was…more than a friend…Dick was his cousin and they all fought so hard to get to the point where they were now. She didn't know what she would tell her father to convince him that this was the right thing to do. She didn't know what she could and couldn't say to communicate to him the danger this would pose…but she would try. All she could do was try, "I'll do it. This is important. And if it will help I will do what I can to convince him to do this court hearing. He would do it no question, but I honestly don't know what I will say to make him understand how important and how dangerous this task can potentially be. He's very logical and if I start talking about Talons and assassins…he'll think it's bogus and not take it seriously,"

"Livy you don't need to do this," Darren stated, he looked very grave. His normally pale skin even lighter, the skin pulled tight around his knuckles as he pulled his hands into a fists and pressed them into the tabletop, "We can find another way. I don't want you to put your family in danger," Tim gave him a look but Darren was focused on Livia, his eyes met hers. Livia was the first to blink and she shook her head,

"I _am_ doing this. We're already on the Court's radar, this won't make a difference,"

"It's one thing to be the one on their radar, it's another when your family is on it as well," Darren monotoned, "They can be used as _leverage_ ,"

"Whose side are you on?" Stephanie demanded, and Darren threw her a glare while Tim put a hand out as if to wave away any argument that was brewing,

"But that's only if it comes to that," Tim insisted, letting his hand fall, "If we do this right we can keep Livia's family from being noticed before the trial,"

"And what about _after?"_ Darren hissed, leaning forward with a glare on his face. He apparently seemed to be the only one not okay with this discussion. It seemed Darren had let them state their case but was against it from the start and was making his opinion known now. He was trying to scare Livia away from doing this. Whether consciously or not, she didn't know nor did she care. Her decision was made,

"I will ask my father. Ultimately it is up to him. My question is…what can I say to him?" She looked over at Tim. He was better at giving meaningful bits of information without revealing too many potentially damaging things,

"Tell him the truth. Everything,"

" _Not_ everything," Darren growled darkly, his glare fierce. Tim looked evenly back at him—considering the hidden meaning behind those words—before giving a short nod in agreement,

"Tell him about the Court of Owls," Tim amended. He seemed to know that Darren's anger was not entirely directed at him, more so at the situation at hand,

"I'll let you know," Livia said, glancing at her watch, "I actually need to go, it's almost dinner time,"

"I will drive you home my dear," Alfred said, as she rose, "It's much too expensive to call at cab out to here to get back into the city." Livia followed the Butler down the hall to the main entrance and took her coat out of the closet by the door while Alfred went to fetch the car keys. Darren followed her, leaving the others to disperse from the table. Dick following Damian into the living room, Tim to his room and Bruce somewhere in the depths of the Manor,

"You—," he paused, a frown on his face as if trying to figure out how best to put what he was going to say, "You…you can't tell him everything. Please, don't tell him everything," he continued after a moment of silence. Livia nodded, Darren's stare was intense and he shifted nervously,

"I don't mean to tell you what to do, but…there are things I am not proud of in my past that I don't want others knowing. Not yet. Not at all even,"

"Darren, of course I won't tell him anything you don't want me to. I wasn't going to mention Talons at all. I will only tell him what I think he needs to know,"

"I know that…I do. I just need to make sure. I…uh…don't want to make a bad impression," Livia raised an eyebrow before letting out a light laugh, placing an affectionate hand on his cheek,

"You're sweet. I'm sure this won't affect your image in my father's eyes at all. I'll even put in a good word for you," she stated with a wink before giving him a kiss on the cheek—mindful that Dick had a careful eye on them from the living room where he and Damian played a board game—and following Alfred out to the car.

* * *

Livia glanced over at her father from her spot on the couch where he sat at the dining room table working on the paper's crossword puzzle of the day. She tried not to make it obvious but she'd been doing it on and off for the past ten minutes. All through dinner she kept playing conversations over in her head on how she should go about asking him to play this role for Darren and his family, it made for a very quiet dinner—the silence only broken by her brother's random ramblings and questions. After desert, and after her brother had insisted she watch his favorite nighttime cartoon with him before heading off to bed, she still hadn't brought up the topic. Her father, it seemed, knew something was off,

"A penny for your thoughts Livia?" he asked, glancing up finally from his paper. Livia shot her head forward to face the TV, instinctively trying not to look like she was misbehaving, before letting out a sigh,

"It's important," she started, getting up from her spot—Peter was asleep on the couch by this point, his cartoon blaring away without him to watch it—, "And I don't know what you'll make of it,"

"What is it?" he asked raising an eyebrow, "You look so serious. Should I be concerned? Has something happened?"

"No…well yes…well, it's a good thing that's happened…but a kinda bad thing as well and I just—well…uh—,"

"Livia. You're babbling," Alaric interrupted her kindly. Livia rolled her eyes and sighed, "But I think I know what you're getting at," she blinked,

"You do?"

"You hate it here don't you? You want to move back to Boston," Livia opened her mouth to protest, "I'm sorry sweetie but I can't just leave this job. It's a good position at one of the busiest hospitals. I know I'm working more than before and I'm not home as often, and this city is dangerous, dark and heavily crime-ridden but—,"

 _"Alaric!"_ Livia snapped—not rudely, just to get his attention—, "That's not what this is about at all,"

"Oh?" it was his turn to blink in confusion,

"A friend of mine…Darren Crowne, you know him actually…his cousin just won guardianship of him,"

"That's great to hear!" he cried, then his expression darkened, "but if the papers are to be believed…there is a criminal trial being set up against Shepard Powers. For child abuse, Darren accused him in the middle of the custody hearing," Livia nodded somberly,

"And that's what I wanted to talk to you about. The family doctor can't testify in that trial, she's too close to them and her credibility would be questioned…despite the fact that she is an incredibly professional doctor. They were wondering and I was hoping—,"

"That I would look over the X-rays and testify in this trial?" Dr. Branley finished for her,

"Yes," she replied, looking at him hopefully,

"Of course I'll do it. I never liked the Powers, the fact that they lied about the will of Darren's mother rubbed me the wrong way and now this accusation is making me despise them even more. I'll do whatever I can to put that man behind bars,"

"Good…great. But…I do need you to understand that this could be potentially dangerous," he raised an eyebrow at her,

"How so? I'm just explaining some X-rays,"

"I know…and that's not the dangerous part. But you'd be going against some really powerful people,"

"I can't be bought Livia," he stated, almost sternly. Like he was offended she had considered such a thing—even though she hadn't,

"No. It's not that. They're…well…have you heard of the Court of Owls?"

"They're a fairytale," he replied immediately,

"They aren't," Livia insisted, leaning forward and lowering her voice in case Peter was actually just pretending to be asleep, "The Court is _real_. The threat they pose is real as well and the Powers are a part of it. They want to control Darren and his finances…and they'll do almost anything to make things work in their favor. Fear, manipulation, pain…they'll use just about anything to make it so that they can _keep_ him," she knew that's not all they wanted with Darren, but for some reason his inheritance was a big part of why they were so desperate to get him back. Having control of all he would inherit was apparently valuable to the Powers and the Court of Owls,

"Why are his finances so important. He won't be able to touch them until he's twenty-one…and even then they couldn't do anything with it either. They wouldn't be his guardians anymore," her father asked, voicing her own thoughts,

"But they'll be his guardians _now_ if they somehow convince people the X-Ray's are fake…and accidents happen," Livia stated knowingly. She then shook her head and refocused the conversation, "That's not even the point. The point is I want you to say to me that you understand that this could be dangerous…and that you'll be careful if you take this on. No one can know you are going to do this but Lucius Fox and whoever else is on our side. I can tell them but I need you to understand that the Court of Owls—however real or not real—are a part of this and can be dangerous to you…to our whole family. So if you aren't willing to risk that…don't do this. I need you to believe this… _please,"_ her father stared at her levelly. As if trying to figure out if she was lying or making it up or trying to sway him with theatrics, "It is okay if you don't want to do this," she added. Livia tried to make it sound genuine, but she knew that he would do it despite everything because he knew that even as she said that, she wanted him to do this,

"I understand Livia. Perhaps not entirely, but I will be careful. I will be aware and cautious. But I will also help you and your friend however I can," Livia nodded, relieved. She slumped back in her chair with a happy, content smile on her face. One thing in their favor, one step closer to getting Shepard behind bars for the rest of his life,

"So…" her father started, a thoughtful expression on his face, "Isn't Powers the last name of that boy who got you suspended?" Those words were a starter to a conversation that usually always ended with her lying about her abilities and her father knowing she was keeping something from him. It wasn't that she wasn't a good liar, it was more that it was difficult to explain what happened and how it happened the way it did. And her father knew how to poke holes in every story. He would have been a great lawyer in another life. Livia shook her head at him angrily—not really angry at him just frustrated and annoyed—and sat up rim-rod straight. She sent a glare at him before getting up and leaving. She was not going to open that can of worms again.

* * *

A/N: Not that long of a chapter, but I still hope you all really enjoyed it. I, despite having wrote this chapter, really enjoy how for and against this plan Darren was. Because on one hand it would be great to finally get the Powers out of his hair, but on the other hand it's also his girlfriend and her family he's putting at risk by letting her do this and asking her father to do this XD

I will answer any comments, questions or concerns you have about this chapter or past chapters or even future chapters! I really do miss hearing from you guys. I really want to know what you think so...

...you know that drill! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Next chapter on Thursday!


	42. Chapter 42

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 42

Jason woke from sleep to the sound of someone knocking on the window to his safe house. He let out a grunt and ran a hand over his eyes. He'd just gotten back from a mission with Roy and Kori out in Aruba and was watching some TV to wind down. Looking to the clock on the wall he saw that is was almost three in the morning. Whoever woke him up better have a good reason, and if it was one of his brother's he'd shoot whomever it was in the foot again. He was damn tired. The knock sounded again and with a sigh Jason got up and meandered over, taking his time before opening the window to reveal Darren crouching catlike on the fire-escape railing. Jason frowned, now his foot-shooting would be useless and ineffective,  
"Well…look what the cat dragged in," Jason drawled, letting a crooked grin stretch across his face. Darren looked unamused and just crouched there, still as a statue…unnaturally still. Jason frowned and looked him over. It wasn't cold outside anymore, perhaps a little chilly at night for April. He wasn't wearing his Renegade suit, his eyes weren't gold either so he wasn't wounded, but something was clearly bothering him…he wouldn't have come otherwise,

"What's wrong?" he demanded. The kid still did not move and Jason looked outside and saw the rain pouring down and how sopping wet Darren was, "Dammit kid, did you run away again? Get inside before you freeze from the rain you idiot," he grabbed Darren by the arm and tugged him into the room from his perch,

"I didn't run away," he finally muttered, "I left a note,"

"You really don't get the whole running away thing do you?" Jason muttered, searching the nearby closet for a towel or a few blankets. He was not dealing with a frozen Talon on only three hours of sleep, "What's wrong," he asked again. Darren just shrugged, wrapping his arms around himself and allowing a shiver to pass through him as if he were just noticing the cold of the rain. Jason tossed the towel at him, threw the blanket over the arm of the sofa and cranked the heat up despite the fact that it was early April.

The safe house was stationed in an abandoned warehouse near the Gotham harbor, nowhere near Wayne Manor. It occupied the top half of the giant space, the lower part had been renovated to accommodate tech and devices similar to that which the Batcave had and used. A training area was installed on the other half of the lower portion of the warehouse as well. The living space was nice, clean and neat. Surprising for the black—or as some would say 'red'—sheep of the batfamily. Weapons lay mounted on the walls, a large bed against a section of walling in the middle of the room faced floor to ceiling windows which led out over the Gotham Harbor and most of the city. The living room and kitchen were large and filled to the brim, with the amount of food Alfred sent him, he could probably survive the apocalypse from the comfort of his safe house.

Darren glanced around, silent once again, wrapping the towel he had thrown around himself. A fact that annoyed Jason, he came for a reason. No one runs from the Manor to basically the other side of the city for nothing,

"Can't sleep?" Jason tried again,

"Can you?" Darren shot back, a scowl on his face. With that answer Jason knew it was part of the reason he came here, the other was still completely unknown to him. Even so, he put a bite on what he said next,

"I was asleep when _you_ woke me up," he growled, and almost felt bad for the guilty look the kid gave him. This kid was an enigma, the Court of Owls messed him up good, terribly good. And some part of him would always be like that, despite him being with the 'good guys'. There would always be a red and a black sheep in this family and it seemed Darren was starting to realize this as well, if what Tim had told him about what happened a few months ago was true,

"Why are you here?" Jason state again, deliberately enunciating each word, "I won't ask again," it was a lie, and Darren could probably hear that but the kid let out a sigh,

"How do you do it?" he asked,

"Do what?" Jason asked,

"Know who to kill?" he said it so simply and bluntly, Jason was taken aback for a moment. He knew what Darren meant, but he hadn't expected him to give up on restraint so easily…hell what Jason did was restraining himself,

"How do you know when it's right…when to do it so no one gets mad at you," he continued after a moment, as if he needed to clarify his question,

"I heard of what Bruce and Dick discussed a few months back. It wasn't serious. _Trust_ me, you would _know_ if Bruce was serious,"

"I know he threatened to throw you in Arkham too," Darren stated, looking over at him blue-grey eyes narrowed and intense, "but somehow you showed him that you could kill people and still be in control. There was still some line for you that you wouldn't cross. I…I don't know what that is and I want to know, I _need_ to know,"

"You still have time. You don't need to do this just yet,"

"Bruce has more faith in you than me—,"

"—that's because he trained me from a young age…you never had that. It has nothing to do with the fact that you've killed,"

"Then what does it have to do with? I know that killing is wrong…I know I shouldn't do it…but, but—,"

"—at times you can't help it?" Jason finished for him. Darren nodded, stumbling over to the couch and slumping onto it, cocooning the blankets around him like a literal cat, "I was much like that when I was first out of the Lazarus Pits. The waters messed with my head…I wasn't in my right mind then, probably still not there," Jason let out another sigh and sat next to Darren. He wanted to help the kid understand, but he also didn't want to have him think this was the only way to do things. His path wasn't set in stone just yet, and it didn't have to be solidified now,

"I want to be good. I want to try…but I just need to know what I can do if I can't be what they all think I can be," Jason was silent, thinking of how to answer Darren. He didn't want to be blamed for any aftermath this conversation had, but he also didn't want to kick the kid out with no answers,

"Don't set yourself up for failure. Don't create some backup plan…you're expecting to fail," Jason didn't mean to sound like he was scolding the kid, but that wasn't the way to do this. And he needed to know that. Darren scowled at him,

"That's not what I'm trying to do…I'm trying to figure out if it's possible, for one day. Not now. But one day, just in case. Batman has plans to stop the entire Justice League if they get out of hand…this one is mine for myself. In case I can only be what I was trained to be. At least this way it's helping to some degree," Jason was silent again before abruptly standing, he stalked to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge, popping the top off and gulping down a portion of it before heading back over to the living room,

"I don't know who to kill," Jason admitted, setting the bottle down on the table as he sat next to Darren once more, "I kill when I think it's necessary, when I feel that there is no other way, no other option to end the fight…to end the criminal operation…to stop those who hurts others. Now most of the time I just shoot through the knees, shoulders, nonlethal parts that will stop them from doing anything else…sometimes, when I'm with the Bats, I use tranq darts. Sometimes I kill out of mercy…other times for vengeance…there _isn't_ a method. There _isn't_ a way to know what is necessary and what is not. There is no right way to know who or when to kill," Darren glared at him, it was clearly not the answer he wanted, but perhaps it was the answer he needed more than anything,

"There has to be something! You get to do whatever you want, you get to make those choices…whereas I'm treated like a monster for any mistake I make!" he snarled. Jason scowled at Darren,

"I get to do what I want because I am _not_ attached to the Bats. I may wear his _symbol_ but I do not take orders from him, the only time we are even remotely in the same area doing the same thing is if we are working together. That is the only time I listen to Bruce, that is the only time I don't get to make a choice because in those moments we are working under the representation of that Bat symbol…we are working under what that bat means to the City, and that does not include what I do," Jason took another sip, setting it down again and letting out a sigh. Darren was silent, picking at the blanket around his shoulders looking slightly dejected. He wanted to help the kid, and he'll be damned if he didn't try. He offered his help and sure that had been for coming to terms with his death and the nightmares that comes with enduring such a traumatic experience…but this was also something that tied them together,

"And I know he treats you like shit for your mistakes, and I know that you hate the hypocrisy of it…but that is because you _know_ they are _mistakes!"_ Darren blinked at him confused, "You understand that they are mistakes. You don't necessarily _want_ to kill, as easy as it is for you and yes sometimes instinct takes over…but you acknowledge that it is wrong. That is why Bruce is so hard on you, that is why he doesn't want to let you get away with killing people because he knows deep down that you don't want to be a killer. He wants you to be better than me. So don't turn away from them, don't give into whatever instinct you have because you have a chance to shift away from it entirely. Besides, you need him," Darren raised an eyebrow,

"What do you mean," Jason rolled his eyes, taking yet another swing. Of course he'll latch onto that but not the important part of what Jason had said. He knew it was in the back of the kid's mind…but the latter statement was more intriguing to him than anything else. Darren probably didn't believe him either. Jason would humor him nonetheless,

"He has a shit ton of security, you're away from the city and you're the cousin of his eldest adopted son…it's a protective jackpot. The Court can't reach you while you are living at the Manor. You need Bruce for _protection_ , Bruce needs you to _take down_ the Court. You need each other, despite how at odds you both are at times. Afterall, the enemy of my enemy is my friend right?" Darren frowned at that,

"You're saying he's _using_ me?"

"You're using each other…but he does care about you. He was furious about what Shepard had done to you, and William and Ra's al Ghul. He is extremely protective of you, like everyone else is,"

"I don't need their protection,"

"Your track record says differently,"

"So does _yours_ ," Darren snapped back, Jason winced…curling his hand into a fist against his leg. His anger rising to the surface, yet with a deep breath he let it simmer down reaching instead for his beer bottle…it was almost empty. They sat in silence after that, listening to the distant sounds of the city and the lapping of water nearby,

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything…I'm just angry. I've been feeling all this anger for a while now and it's all pent up and I don't know why it's there at all. I should be happy, ecstatic even, that we won the custody battle. But I feel it's only the calm before the storm. That this isn't over and I just feel so antsy about it,"

"It's never over. We'll be doing this until our dying day…well, until my dying day at least," Jason didn't miss Darren's wince at that. The prospect of virtual immortality did not rest easy with him, and Jason as much as he hated death and dying…understood his lack of interest at staying alive forever.

Darren shifted slightly on the couch before speaking once more,

"I…I don't think I can be entirely good. I…can't do what they do," Jason was silent for a moment, this night seemed filled with them for some reason, perhaps it was the difficult conversation about the concept of morality which wasn't exactly taught to one of them and was basically ignored by the other,

"I…I know," Jason knew how difficult it was to hold back…especially knowing what these criminals have done to good, innocent people. The anger and hatred Jason felt for the villains he faced at times was almost to great to bear, "I know Bruce thinks differently…I know they all do, but I understand, once you give in—once you embrace it—there's no going back. And I feel in your situation, you're going to have to kill to survive. Not only is Ra's and your father after you, but the Court as well. You can't get out of this alive without knocking a few heads,"

"Then help me…help me find a way to balance these two instincts. I want to protect people, the innocent, anyone in need…but I can't erase this killer instinct side of me," he sounded so at war with himself and Jason knew he needed to help in some way, create some semblance of peace between the two extremes pulling him one way and then the other,

"I don't just kill because I can. I don't just murder because it is easy. I do it because I feel there is no other way, because it is necessary—,"

"You said that already," Darren groaned, slumping back against the pillows,

"—and I also do it because I think of the victims," Jason continued on as if he had never spoken,

"What do you mean?" Darren raised his head slightly, eyeing him skeptically,

"A victim is more likely to commit a crime than someone who is not a victim, and probably even more likely than a reoffending criminal themselves. Why is that?" he directed the question at Darren,

"Revenge," he stated,

"Fear, hatred, anger, lack of justice. It is because they can't get past the fact that the person who hurt them, who kidnapped them, who murdered their family, who attacked them with no warning, who targeted them…is still out there. And in a place like Gotham, where the prisoners never stay in the prisons for very long…Bruce's kind of justice doesn't necessarily work. So I think of them, and I decide if it is worth it to kill the one in charge. I think of the victims," Jason didn't mention that it is also because he was a victim himself and his murderer still plagues the city, as hard as he tried to kill the Clown. Darren looked thoughtful,

"That makes sense…it is a system in a way,"

"I know…but, _don't_ follow it. Not yet. Try to be what they think you can become. You aren't a complete lost hope, not yet,"

"You keep saying I can be some savior, but you also say that I'll need to kill to survive,"

"I'm saying choose your path wisely…because there may be no turning back. Keep every option open. Don't waste everything on an impulsive ultimatum. There isn't one side or the other, you keep saying that yourself, you want a balance…make one, _find_ one. Don't try and cut yourself off to one side versus the other. Find your own method that keeps you on the path you decide and understand is right,"

"I know…but, I can't help feeling that whatever I decide is wrong,"

"That's because you're young. You have _time_. There's no need for decisions like this just yet," the kid looked exhausted, eyes heavily hooded…half-closed almost. Jason looked at the clock, it was close to four, "It's too early for this. Go to sleep kid. I'll call Goldie-bird to pick you up," looking back over at Darren he found him actually asleep. Jason couldn't help but roll his eyes before getting up and pulling out his phone. Dick picked up before the second ring,

"He's here," was all he said before hanging up. Jason looked over at Darren, who still shivered slightly as if cold under all the blankets and with the heat up. Darren shouldn't have to make a choice at all, and yet there they were. Him running off to the big bad Red Hood worried about making the wrong choice and failing everyone. The weight of the world was on this kids shoulders, the weight of Ra's, his father and the Court as well as the weight of Bruce, Dick and the symbol of the Bat.

* * *

Darren was shaken awake by Dick, he grunted groggily and tried to burrow into the blankets once again…he was so warm, and tired. He didn't want to move. But they were pulled away from him and the cold hit him forcefully, waking him up. Dick pulled him to his feet and guided him out the door and down the stairs to the car, thanking Jason for taking care of him as they went. He couldn't tell if Dick was upset at him for leaving, but ultimately also didn't care. He needed those answers. If his conversation with Jason was an answer. He felt like he had known the answer all along, that he couldn't decide such a thing just yet. That there needed to be a time of trial and error…of emotional, mental and even physical change and growth. Livia said he could embrace his darkness and still be himself, that he could kill and still be good…and Jason with the way he remembers and considers victims provided some way of doing that, but then again…everyone they faced could be considered a villain of that caliber.

There was no right answer…there never was. And Darren could only try to be a hero until perhaps some solution appeared that pushed him one way or the other completely. But until then, he would be content in holding himself back. He would save and protect instead of hurt and maim…and he would try his absolute best to curb his killer instinct, not to show that he could be trusted, not to impress or align himself with Bruce…but because it was the right thing to do…it is what was necessary for now. It is what Darren felt needed to be done overall. Darren felt sure in that, and felt good about starting over once again.

With such a decision finally made, Darren brought himself back to the matter at hand…glancing over at Dick he tried to gouge his cousin's level of anger,

"So…running away _is_ considered leaving the house even if you leave a note?" he finally asked. Dick gave him a long measured look from the driver's side of the car before looking back out at the road,

"So all this time you just thought you were being courteous?"

"Was I not?"

"Oh my god, Darren," Dick groaned, almost slumping over the wheel, "I love you so much but…I really want to kill you right now," he said it as if it almost pained him,

"I'm sorry but you'd have to get in line," Darren replied, they shared a brief look before bursting out laughing despite the morbidness and truth of that joke. The mood was definitely lighter as they drove towards the Manor…and Darren felt that things would get better. His mind was clear. He'd try it their way until he felt that he could no longer ignore _his_ way, whatever that turns out to be.

And that was okay.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, this chapter was really just to not only solidify the similarities and differences between Jason and Darren but also to kind of emphasize the struggle Darren is having internally. He wants to fight his instincts yet it feels more and more like he can't and he's continually questioning himself and his motives even though he hasn't been in the field in a while. He keeps coming back to the conclusion that he will end up being able to do things his way, but he still doesn't know what that way is or what it means.

I do not know for certain if victims are more likely to commit a crime than possible re-offenders, which is why I put the probably in there, but I do know for certain that they are more likely to commit a crime than anybody else. Also I really loved that last line before the linebreak before Dick came to get him because it kind of showed the different aspects of good and bad that mirrored one another. Ra's, Darren's father and the Court are 'mirrored' by Bruce, Dick and the symbol of the Bat. Interpret that as you will, I just thought it was really poetic.

I am still working on a timeline for the next story and I am a bit behind in writing it, so I don't know when for certain I will start posting those chapters. Once I get to the end of this story I'll probably have a more accurate idea of the direction I'm heading with that story.

Hope you liked this chapter! I would really love some more reviews! They make my day and I will be answering your questions in the comments, which I am doing right now for last week's review:

Yes Calvin and Malik will appear in the next story. Perhaps not in the way you expect, but they will be there and will serve some role as an informant/helper...at least for the most part...at least as far as you guys know.

REMEMBER TO REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Next chapter on Thursday!


	43. Chapter 43

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 43

Livia stepped out for the dance studio building on the Art Academy's campus, smiling up at the clear blue skies and bright shining sun. April was a gorgeous month in Gotham, a surprising twist to the cold, cloudy and harsh winter months that proceeded it. The days were longer, they were warmer and overall much more welcoming that winter. Of course she loved the snow and the dark nights curled up by the fireplace—even if it was an electric one—with hot chocolate in hand, but something about spring always lifted her spirits.

Perhaps it was everything that had fallen into place over the past week. Darren won his custody case and got Shepard arrested, her father agreed to testify in the court case and telling Darren the news and seeing his face light up with not only happiness but relief was probably the best moment of the month so far. Things were turning around. The tide was shifting in their favor and if everything held up, there could be a potential crumbling of a pillar within the Owls. Of course they still knew nothing of the other members, but they were going in the right direction.

Or maybe it was Livia herself that found spring so inviting. The discovery of her powers had thrown her into a new understanding of the environment around her. The wind seemed to whisper to her, the water reflected the past, present and future, the heat of the spring curled around her bringing her comfort and well-wishes and the earth seemed to rumble with life as she stepped across it. The world seemed to come to life as she stumbled through learning to control her powers, she felt a deeper connection to everything…a feeling within herself that she hadn't known was there. As if something had awakened within her and brought her in touch with everything around her.

Livia couldn't help but do a small twirl as she turned down an alleyway, shifting her direction towards home with a soft smile on her face. The world seemed to smile back, but only for an instant. Everything seemed to darken and she felt as if everything had changed around her. Like the alley was sending her a warning that something wasn't quite right. Carefully she slowed her walking, listening for footsteps and wondered why—in her moment of high spirits—hadn't she considered taking a taxi home. It may be spring and it may be beautiful outside, but this was still Gotham. She heard nothing and instead pushed her senses out into the alley, continuing on her way. Her magic only told her something was off, and as she pushed her conscious outwards, searching for minds to read, she realized that perhaps it could just be all in her head. This could be a fluke easily spurred by the sudden chill of the evening or a cloud covering the sun. It was only April and there were still instances of chilly weather.

A clang sounded behind her and Livia froze, standing stalk-still before slowly and carefully glancing behind her. She scanned the back of the alleyway, her eyes probably glowing slightly with a night-vision ability despite the light still present…she wasn't taking any chances. Nothing was there and with a sigh she faced forward…

…only to freeze at the sight of a tall, muscular man standing before her. His body clad in brown, black and gold armor with a bandolier of daggers thrown across the shoulders and a sword across his back and finally an owl shaped mask covering his face. They stared at one another, Livia unable to move as if her body had suddenly become paralyzed by the sudden appearance of this Talon. The chill settled through to her bones as she realized the Court had not forgotten her, they had not just lost interest or deemed her unworthy of their time…they had been merely waiting in the shadows—what they did best—and decided that now was the time to strike. The moment of immobilization passed the instant it had settled over her and Livia spun on her heels and started to run…but a hand grabbed her arm, the grip like iron and spun her back to face the depthless eyes of the Talon mask his other hand reaching for her throat,

"Livia Baudelaire…," the Talon rumbled,

Fear pulsed through her, flashed through her in a millisecond before she remembered that she was a witch…and perhaps her magic didn't work on them…but that didn't mean it didn't scare these Talons,

"No!" Livia screamed as fire flared between her and the Talon, leaping up to her height flickering wildly in the windy air with the heat searing through the chill. The Talon leapt back, surprised by the sudden heat. And even as the flame sputtered and died the moment it reached his armor, the circle of flame cut around him, allowing Livia the chance to escape and buy her some time. She spun on her heel once more and sprinted back the way she came, only to slam into the chest of another Talon, this one grabbing her wrists as she rebounded off the hard armor. Panic flared, their grip was strong and she was not like them. There was no one around to help her…no way to call for help. This was Gotham, it was every man for themselves,

"No! No…let me go! NO!" she screamed as she pulled and tugged, feeling the skin under this Talon's grip bruise and the bones even ache at how tightly they held her. She thought desperately, wondering how she could get out of this alive, how she could survive…and then she remembered—as helpless tears prickled her eyes—the device Darren had given her, the one she had scoffed at as ridiculous. He said to use it in times of distress, in a moment when she needed him the most—in case a Talon ever attacked her,

"Let. Me. GO!" she yelled, pulling back as much as she could while in this Talon's grasp—the device was still attached to her bag, and if she managed to free herself, she could grab it and use it—she slammed the palms of her hands on his armor…focusing that destructive energy—from when she destroyed that pipe in the school—to the forefront of everything. Pushing everything back and pulling every scrap of that power out into the open, willing it to curl around her hands and pushed it with all her might through to the Talon's suit and into where the plates of armor met, making it seep through to the skin. She put everything into that power and with a scream let it all out, let it flow through her. The Talon was ever silent, but instantly let go of her and crumpled to the ground.

Livia allowed a second of stunned surprise before leaping gracefully over the fallen assassin and sprinting back to the end of the alleyway. Her fire was long put out and she was feeling the drain of using that mysterious and destructive power on her energy. It was an odd ability and as she tried to reach for the zipper which held her device couldn't help but wonder where it came from…where everything about her power came from, but she couldn't focus on that now. She needed to live. As she grasped the device the bag was pulled from her grasp—forcing her around to face the first Talon to attack her—and tossed away. Livia didn't even get a chance to raise her hands in defense as a hand encircled her throat, hoisting her up and backwards into the hard solid wall of the building.

Choking, she clawed at his hand as her head slammed into the building. Her vision blurred as she was pulled away and slammed again into the wall, black spots appeared in sight and the world looked like it was spinning. One final push into the wall had her hands fall limply to her sides and through her blackened, dizzied sight she saw the Talon pull his blade from his back. He was going to kill her, no hesitation…no second thoughts. That is what Talons did, that is what they were created for and for one second Livia saw what Darren could have become if he wasn't gifted with the Mirakuru from his father, if he hadn't obtained the natural curiosity of a Grayson or the hatred he harbored towards the man who killed his mother. Darren chose to survive, he chose to change his fate…and Livia's fate wouldn't be to die today,

"Livia Baudelaire, the Court of Owls has sentenced you to die," the Talon growled…as he let his sword arc downwards. Livia raised her head and with a roar so loud she swore the buildings shook—or it could have been the concussion she most definitely had playing tricks on her—stopped his blow dead in the air with her telekinesis. The Talon pushed against her, his strength trying to cleave through the force of her power and of her mind. With another cry she pushed harder against his blade, the effort leaving her breathless…her strength waning greatly as the aching of her head increased. With a wail she sent out another wave of telekinetic energy and pushed the sword back another inch but the Talon's strength was becoming too much and out of sheer desperation she let loose a scream and threw a ripple of raw energy out at the Talon. The force of which lifted him off his feet, broke all the windows in the area and collapsed a fire-escape…the metal crashing down as Livia crumpled to her hands and knees.

Her ears rung as she stumbled over to where her bag lay falling over herself as she did so, scraping her knees and hands up on pieces of broken glass. She ignored the pain and blood dripping off of her as she grabbed onto the device, just as a hand wrapped around her ankle, pulling her to the ground hard. Livia let out a scream, she couldn't help it,

"No! No, no, no!" she cried, jerking herself forward on her forearms and reaching for the device just out of range. She threw a fireball blindly behind her and felt fierce satisfaction when a surprised curse rang out…the grip on her lessening. Livia kicked herself free and ripped the device off from her bag. Part of it stayed attached and she expected it to emit some sound…a beeping noise, anything, but it remained silent,

"What—?" she moaned, was it broken…had it all been for nothing. The hand grabbed her by the foot again pulling her slowly through the broken window panes as she clawed at the ground trying to prevent the inevitable. The Talon…fed up with her feeble attempt to get away pulled her up to her feet, a dagger pressed against her throat. Livia glared at him, despite the tears that escaped, she would not beg, she would not scream and yell. She wanted this Talon to see the hatred in her eyes,

"This will do nothing for you," she hissed. Livia wanted to believe this, but felt deep in her gut it was nothing but false,

"No," the Talon growled, "it will do everything for us…and you have no idea why," the Talon didn't even let her ponder this statement, he pulled her closer and jeered in her face,

"Livia Baudelaire, the Court of Owls has sentenced you to die," his Talon mask looming over her so it would be the last thing she ever saw…Livia closed her eyes…

…but nothing ever happened. Nothing ever came…no pain. No feeling of blood pooling in her throat. No weightlessness as she fell to the floor. The Talon's grasp on her upper arm slipped suddenly, forcing her back fully on her feet. She wavered there, steadying herself and Livia then opened her eyes as the Talon crumpled into a heap at her feet revealing Darren behind him, blood dripping from the heart grasped in his hand.

Livia let out a gasp of air she hadn't realized she'd been holding in, taking everything in. The glint of the light on Darren's dark blonde hair, the red and black suit he wore and the heart he threw to the ground as if it were nothing—as if it weren't vital to a living breathing person. Her legs buckled as he reached her and he caught her in one arm, the other he wiped along the wall near her bag as he whispered in her ear,

"Livia… _Livy_ …are you okay. Are you _okay?"_ Livia shook her head, everything was fuzzy, everything ached and it felt like everything was happening in slow motion,

"He tried to kill me," she found herself saying, "H-he…they…tried to kill me,"

"I know," Darren said, a hand cupping her cheek, "Livia, I am so sorry. I'm so sorry this happened. I shouldn't have involved you…I shouldn't have done this to you…I—,"

"—No," Livia stated simply, cutting him off. She reached up and weakly grasped the hand that held her cheek, "You didn't do this. They did. Do not blame yourself…please don't blame yourself. I know what I signed up for,"

"This shouldn't have happened…this _didn't_ have to happen," Darren almost sounded wounded, "You could have died," he whispered. She couldn't see his eyes, they were covered by a mask…but she could imagine the grey-blue of his eyes pleading with her to blame him, to hate him for what knowing him had caused,

"But I didn't," she replied, "You found me," Darren took a shallow breath,

"I found you," he repeated, as if relieved he managed to do so, "I found you," he pulled her to him then and she melted into the embrace, burying her head into his shoulder sobbing quietly as the adrenaline left her system and only the fear and relief remained. The Talon had almost killed her, the two…Livia nearly threw herself away from Darren, scrambling back away from him and whirling around this way and that, making herself dizzy,

"Livy…Livia! What is it?" Darren cried, trying to reach for her hands, "Calm down, you're safe,"

"No…no…there was another one. There were _two_ Talons!" she hissed, near frantic. Darren froze and instantly was on high alert. He stepped protectively in front of her and despite her exhaustion she raised her right hand ready to use her magic if needed, her left hand gently grasped Darren's upper arm as the two of them surveyed the alleyway, sirens started wailing in the distance…too late to do any real good,

"He's over there," she whispered, her heart thudding in her chest. He'd remained down for the duration of her struggle with the first Talon and still hadn't risen, "I used my magic on him…I knew it wouldn't work, but I had to try something. I had to _fight_ ,"

"You fought in the way you knew how to. You did great," Darren murmured back and Livia knew that he truly meant it and wasn't trying to be patronizing. They inched closer to the seemingly unconscious Talon, ready for anything…ready for him to leap to his feet, done with playing possum. But as they neared the Talon Darren relaxed his stance, an odd look on his face as he tilted his head to the side,

"What is it?" she whispered, still eyeing the Talon,

"I—I can't hear a heartbeat," they shared a look. Talons had slow heartbeats, but they still actually _beat_ …there was still something ticking in their chests. Very slowly and very carefully Darren nudged the Talon with his foot, springing back into a defensive position instantly afterwards…but nothing happened. Darren frowned, kicking the Talon lightly again and made a disgruntled face,

"Something doesn't feel right," he muttered, crouching down over the Talon and Livia, after a second's hesitation, followed him—she was not afraid, she was not afraid…she would not be afraid of her would be murderers. Darren slowly reached for the mask and carefully peeled it back to reveal the face of a somewhat attractive red haired man…or he would have been if it weren't for the unusual dark grey pallor of his skin and the sickened looking veins protruding around his face and down what was visible of his throat,

"Lucien," Darren stated, an unreadable expression his face, "he doesn't look right,"

"I thought most Talons had veins like that," Livia whispered, still wary of the Talon before him,

"Not like this…he, he looks like an _actual_ corpse," Livia looked over at Darren and back at the Talon before them and realized he was right. This Talon looked…stiffened, dead, and unmovable. The veins a color that matched the dark grey of his skin, not like the black veins Darren had described to her which stood out on their light skin. This Talon's skin was not like the near bone-white appearance Darren's had, in fact it looked like it could crumble to dust at any second…like dried clay almost. Looking over at Livia, before glancing back at the Talon Darren knelt fully next to the fallen Talon and moved to touch his face, just as a great gust of wind blew by them…turning the originally solid man before them into dust.

They both gasped in shock as the Talon suddenly crumbled into nothing, the metal of the armor clanked against the ground and the daggers rang loudly against the concrete. Nothing was left…everything was gone. No decomposition took place, no bones…nothing. It was as if Lucien's body had deteriorated instantly and disappeared before their eyes,

"What…what could have _done_ this?" Darren asked after a moment of stunned silence. Livia took a deep breath, looking over at his grave and thoughtful face, swallowing thickly,

"I think I did."

* * *

Livia glanced around at all of them, they were seated around the coffee table and couches in the living room of the Manor. Everyone was staring at her, varying levels of concern on their faces as Alfred shined a light in her eye and checked her over for any worse injuries than cut up hands and knees, a concussion and bruises up and down her arms. He handed her an ice pack for her head and stepped back, letting the conversation finally start,

"Start from the beginning," Tim stated, leaning forward slightly, "What happened?" He sat across from her on one of the lounge chairs in the living room, Stephanie shifting slightly next to him in their shared seat. Bruce stood silently by the fireplace with his arms crossed and face unreadable, Dick by the archway leading to the rest of the house; eyes narrowed in concentration and focus, Damian was in the corner of the L shaped couch uncaring as usual though still intently focused on the conversation with Barbara at the end of the shorter side looking ready to pull Livia into a hug, which she would have welcomed at the moment. Darren sat next to Livia on the arm of the long part of the L shaped couch. Livia let out a sigh, unsure of what to say and how to say it. Everything was a blur now, she could still feel the fear from the attack and the shock at realizing what she had done to that Talon, but it was like everything was seeping away from the forefront of her memory,

"I was attacked, by a Talon," she stated, "they were trying to kill me…they toyed with me and taunted me as they chased me around that alleyway, if it wasn't for Darren I'd be dead," she couldn't help but shudder at the memory,

"How did Darren even find you? You were all the way in the city," Damian asked. He seemed the most uninterested in this conversation and to be honest everyone else seemed a bit perplexed as to why a Talon attack was so significant that it called for a 'family' meeting. Afterall, they did suspect that something like this would happen sooner or later,

"Darren gave me a device. He said it would lead him to my location should I need help or be in danger,"

"It was a ultra sonic emitter that the Court used to corral me around Gotham a while ago. I thought it could be better used as a way to alert me when there was danger," Darren replied, giving more context on the device and answering Livia's question as to why she couldn't hear it go off,

"At the time I thought it was ridiculous but it saved me. And I guess I haven't thanked you yet for saving my life again," she looked over at Darren who gave her a small smile,

"There's no need to thank me, I'd do it again in a heartbeat,"

"Okay, sorry to be the jerk here. But why do we need to know all this?" Tim asked, "you sounded shaken on the phone, but this just sounds like a completely normal rescue," Darren shot him a glare, shifting his position into a more catlike crouch than before, as if ready to leap off the armrest at Tim the next time he spoke,

"Because she needed _medical attention,_ " he practically growled that, and Tim nodded as if it were fair that he was annoyed at him for disregarding her well being, "And because Livia _killed_ a Talon," that got all of their attention. Dick actually slid back off the archway he was leaning against and nearly fell over for a moment,

"Livia did _what?"_ Stephanie exclaimed, nearly elbowing Tim in the face as she moved around in the chair they shared,

"And _how?"_ Bruce asked, he seemed the most pensive of the lot of them. His calm expression masked whatever wheels were turning in his head and Livia couldn't help but wish she could hear what he was thinking. She needed to master that power, now that she knew it was possible to read others mind…not knowing what went on in other people's heads frustrated her to no end,

"I didn't just kill that Talon," she stated, "I _destroyed_ him, obliterated that Talon. He turned to _dust_ …well a corpse like statue…and then crumbled to dust,"

"I thought magic didn't work on Talons," Dick declared, moving from the archway to lean on the back of the couch with his hands,

"Apparently we thought wrong," Barbara said,

"No we didn't," Darren replied, "Magic _doesn't_ work on Talons…but not _all_ magic is useless it seems,"

"So you're saying that most of Livia's abilities are useless… _except_ one certain thing?" Tim asked, he then looked at Livia, "What did you _use?"_ Livia swallowed, sitting up slightly suddenly feeling nervous under their intense gazes,

"The ability I used to destroy the pipeline in the school to make the explosion possible,"

"The…uh…there's no other way to describe this…the black energy?" Tim clarified,

"It's this cataclysmic energy. It's like this orb, flame, pulse or anything of the sort. I can't describe it any other way. It's pure destruction that I can summon,"

"Not all of us have seen this ability…could you show us?" Bruce asked. Livia nodded, only hesitating for a moment before concentrating and pulling that ability to the forefront of her magical reserves, it appeared in the palm of her hand and she quickly—before it could leap away with a mind of its own or she lost control and hurt someone in the room—placed it on the coffee table before her. It blackened as it enveloped the entire wooden structure and then turned to a dull dead grey color. Just as the pipe in the school did and just as the Talon did. Tim placed a finger on the grey, deteriorated looking table and it collapsed into powdered dust,

"Whoa," he whispered, surprised even though he'd seen this ability in action before. Of course everything had happened so fast, it had probably all been a blur to him,

"I've only used it a few times, and it's not really reliable. I'm not in complete control of it," she murmured, slightly embarrassed by their attention. It wasn't like she wasn't used to attention, she was a dancer—she performed for God's sake. Livia just didn't _like_ this power, it felt foreign to her even if it was her own ability,

"But you used it and it worked," Darren said, reaching to put a hand on her arm, "That means—,"

"No!" Livia cried, leaping to her feet even if it made her head spin, "Don't touch me!" she tried not to feel terrible for the hurt expression that crossed his face, it disappeared in a second but it was there,

"If it worked on that Talon it can work on you! _Any_ of you guys! I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to hurt anyone! It isn't some power just singled out for using on Talons!"

"But perhaps it is," Tim muttered, everyone including Livia, gave him a look, "Livia you said the other Talon taunted you right before Darren…uh…stepped in," Livia looked around the room once more, noticing Bruce's darkened expression at the assumed killing Darren had done to save Livia's life,

"Yes…he did, but it didn't make any sense. He was just trying to scare me,"

"But what did he say?" Tim insisted, Livia sighed heavily wanting all talk of her near death experience to be over already, "I'm sorry for making you think back to this, but it could be important,"

"I said it would do nothing for them if they killed me," Livia started, trying not to roll her eyes, "He said, 'it will do everything for us…and you have no idea why,'"

"Well that's not cryptic," Stephanie muttered, looking disgruntled by Livia's recount of what happened,

"It certainly is…but based on that it's clear they knew who you were," Tim stated, "And we can even assume they knew _what_ you are," Bruce looked like he was about to interrupt, not agreeing with what Tim had said,

"Of course there's no evidence for that as well…we know practically nothing about what the Talons do and do not know, but it is clear they fear magic. Perhaps even a particular _kind_ of magic," Tim amended, glancing at Bruce as if sensing his disagreement,

"Are you saying they're afraid of whatever this destructive ability is?" Livia asked,

"Exactly,"

"But if you're saying what I think you're saying…," Dick started, frowning over at them, "…then maybe they faced Baudelaires in the past, which would be how they know of the family and the abilities they possess. And maybe the Court of Owls even feared them enough to try and have their family assassinated," Livia sat down hard, enough to make little sparks of light dance in front of her eyes,

"Are you saying the Court of Owls arranged for that plane to crash with my parents on it?"

"This is all heavily hypothetical, but if what we assume is true then that may be the case," Barbara said apologetically, throwing the other boys a glare, "This really isn't something to say in front of an injured person,"

"That is true, even so, this must be investigated," Stephanie stated, "The rest of her family may be in even more danger if this is the case, despite the fact that they're not Baudelaires," They dissolved into much more bickering on what to do and how to do it, there was even mention of rotating shifts on her house during patrol in case the Talons try anything else. Livia's mind was a whirlwind in itself. She may have been attacked not just because she is involved with Darren but because of what she was. Did that mean she was a danger to her family…or did this new ability allow for her and her family to remain relatively unharmed as the Court supposedly feared this type of magic because it was the only thing that could kill them as easily as any other human.

That thought jarred her…it was the only thing that could kill them as easily as any other _human_ …this magical ability rendered the Electrum in their blood useless, they were effectively _human_ once they came into contact with that kind of magic,

"What if this is a good thing?" Livia asked suddenly, an idea blooming. Silence was instantaneous as everyone looked at her with varying expressions of surprise,

"What? How is _any_ of this a good thing?" Darren asked, looking at her like she was crazy,

"Think about it. This power I have can harm Talons…it can _kill_ them,"

"Yes, but it also puts you in their sights, you're in danger," Darren growled. Not seeing the potential this situation presented. Tim on the other hand lurched forward, nearly dislodging Steph from the lounge chair,

"I see where you're going with this…it's _not_ a good idea,"

"It's possible…it's _useful_ ,"

"It's _dangerous_ ," Dick insisted, clearly understanding what both Livia and Tim had concluded. Barbara nodded her agreement with Dick while Damian sat with unmoving indifference. He didn't care, Stephanie seemed to be on the fence, wanting to support Livia's abruptly understood idea but against it due to the danger it would potentially cause. Darren seemed to be the only one who didn't know what they were talking about,

"What are you guys talking about?" He demanded, glaring at them all clearly annoyed at being left out,

"We're talking about using my ability as a weapon against the Court of Owls,"

"What?" Darren hissed, looking intensely at each of them, "No, _No!_ No way. You can't be _serious!"_

"I _am_ serious. If my ability is the only way to kill them easily…with one blow…then I will use it to destroy that organization,"

"There are _dozens_ of Talons and they can easily make more! Besides, you're one person! You cannot fight off an army of undead Talons who move faster than you can think. I can barely even do that and I'm _one of them!"_

"You don't have magic…and they _fear_ it,"

"Not all of them are from centuries ago when superstitions were a serious thing! Some are from today…they will not hesitate, especially if their orders are specifically to kill you!"

"Then I'll figure out how to siphon it out of me…I'll put it into a weapon, _multiple_ weapons. I'll help you in the best way I know how, this will save you, my family and so many others who are plagued by these Talons!"

"Livia, this is—it's _something_ but we can't do anything without _research_ ," Tim stated, Livia couldn't help but glare at him, "You don't know what will happen if you attempt this…it could potentially kill you. We know nothing about these abilities you have and you know just as much as we do. We're not going into an all out war with the Court of Owls until we have more information and until we know for a fact what history the Court has with the Baudelaires if any at all. We won't be using your power to create weapons unless we know it's possible, unless there's evidence it's been done before,"

"And how do you suppose we do that?" Livia demanded, "Time is a problem here, we don't know what they're planning either…they could go after my family at any moment!"

"That is why we will keep an eye on them when we go on patrol," Dick said kindly, "We will not forget them and we will keep them safe,"

"As for how we'll get information, we have your spell book. We can look for this ability and how it can be used or siphoned and we do have resources we can utilize for finding out any relationships between the Court and the Baudelaires…right?" Tim looked over at Darren who was scowling on his perch, still not on board with any of the plans they've come up with apparently. His head snapped up and he shrugged,

"I have no idea where Calvin is…and I don't think Malik will be willing to help me after I threatened to kill him," Tim let out a huff of a breath, clearly a little disappointed they didn't have more of an in with the Court of Owls,

"Well…at least try. We need to get ahead in all of this, we need to _end_ this. But in the meantime all we can do is patrol the city and try to keep Livia's family safe,"

"You can sleep here tonight," Dick decided, "I'm sure we can think of a reason for you to stay—,"

"—you can say you're having a sleepover with me!" Stephanie said brightly, flinging herself out of the chair and grabbing Livia by the hand, "And that we'll come over here to study or something so your dad will have a reason to pick you up here,"

"Sounds like a plan. Let's head out for patrol…it's going to be a long night," Dick said, glancing over to where Bruce stood…or _had_ stood,

"Where did he—when did he—?" Livia asked, looking around the living room. Barbara let out a sigh and shook her head,

"Don't worry about it. He does it all the time. He most likely had monitor duty on the Watchtower and decided to just head over during the conversation, he hates being late despite how dreadful monitor duty is. We'll fill him in later. You get some rest, you need it," she gave Livia a calm smile as she and Dick started for the office—the entrance to the Batcave, Livia still found it crazy that the office lead to a series of caves underneath the mansion,

"Dare?" Dick asked as he started past his cousin, he still sat on the arm of the couch with his gaze on Livia,

"I think I'll stay in tonight," he muttered, "Don't want to cause any more Talons to peek out of the shadows tonight than there already are," everyone looked surprised by this for a moment but covered it quickly. Livia on the other hand smiled to herself as she followed Stephanie up the stairs to the guest bedroom they'll share for the night. It would be like an actual sleepover, something to truly keep her mind off of the attack…she hoped at least. She couldn't help thinking this wasn't the last of the Talons she'd encounter, and the thought sent a chill down her spine.

* * *

A/N: Yay, I'm so happy I finally got to this chapter. I hope you really liked it, I worked hard on this chapter. Some new developments have been made known. I wonder what you all think of this and what you think will happen. I'd really love to hear your thoughts and opinions about this chapter and where this is all going.

If you need reference for what the Talon Lucien looks like when he's basically an actual corpse, just look at the Originals or the Vampire Diaries when the vampires get stabbed with a ash dipped dagger or are killed. It looks pretty much like that. For live Talons, at least in this AU, the 'deformed' veins are very dark, basically black whereas in this 'corpse' state they match the color the skin turns.

As for whether Rose knows what happened to Darren, she does but right now she's dealing with some stuff so she won't appear in this story, the next one is fair game for her and the boys ;)

Let me know your thoughts, opinions, concerns and questions! I will answer them as best I can.

Thanks for reading and REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Next chapter on Thursday!


	44. Chapter 44

A/N: Ahhhh, third to last chapter! I'm so excited. I finished chapter four of the new story though I have been slacking on my writing since then...it's only really because my roommate has become more and more verbally and emotionally abusive towards me and other people are noticing and are saying that I should really move out of the dorm and I've just been feeling really off because of it and I can't write when I'm like that. But I will survive, I will continue writing, don't worry guys!

Anyway, onto the chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 44

They went all out for their sleepover. One of the many guest bedrooms was a mess by the time they were curled up in the giant bed watching sappy sleepover movies on Stephanie's laptop in the early morning hours. There wasn't much opportunity for them to have an actual sleepover due to Stephanie's patrol schedule. Not only was she on 'overtime' over the weekend but on school nights there was no chance of a sleepover with school work to finish and patrol. They needed to make this night count. Food littered the floor, makeup and nail polish lay scattered around as well. A pizza, not from any delivery place but brought up by Alfred at ten was delicious as were their ice cream sundaes, popcorn was scattered in the sheets and as much as it bothered Livia she didn't have the heart to try and brush it off, not when she and Stephanie were having so much fun.

But even as they did each other's hair, makeup and nails, even as they changed into the comfiest pajamas Livia had ever worn and even as they marathoned two tv shows and watched a movie she couldn't help but feel that everything was forced. Everything was a distraction so that she wouldn't think of the attack, so that she wouldn't be worried or scared. And even with her friend's efforts she found herself looking off into the distance, remembering the moment that she'd been slammed into the wall. Or she'd faze out of a conversation entirely or she'll feel her magic stir under her skin as if ready to leap out and defend her from an invisible attack. It felt like she was jumping out of her skin every five minutes, but only she knew it. Only she felt it…only her nerves were frayed over one close call.

If that were the case, if her suspicion was true then Livia couldn't help but feel bad. They faced near-death experiences almost daily. They fought criminals every night, they dodged bullets, knives and other weapons. They've been hurt over and over again—sometimes critically injured—by what they do to defend the people of this city and just because Livia made one stupid mistake that nearly got her killed they felt the need to try and make her feel better. To try and distract her and keep her happy because they knew she was scared and they knew she was upset by what happened.

Livia twisted in the sheets, trying to shake away the flashes of the Talons in the alleyway from her mind. She only faced them on her own _once_ , this just happened _once_ …okay, twice if she counted the attack on the school. This shouldn't scare her so much, and she shouldn't be so weak…the others did this daily…the others were able to move past it. Livia turned again and let out a deep sigh, squeezing her eyes shut and tried to drift off to sleep. But as she closed her eyes again she thought of her father and her little brother, unaware of the danger she presented and unaware of any threats there may be in their lives. She thought of what they would have thought or felt if she had been killed that day, she thought of her father and how he had lost his twin and how terrible it would have been to lose his sister's daughter as well. She only had her father's eyes, with everything else she was the spitting image of her mother. She knew that wasn't just what Alaric cared about; she was his daughter in everything but blood…and it would destroy him to lose one of his children. Livia shivered and wondered how they would survive this…if she should tell them more…if that would keep them safe or make them run from everything wrong and dangerous with Gotham. Livia winced again at that; nothing felt right,

"You okay?" Stephanie asked finally into the quiet of the room. Livia let out a sigh and rolled over to face her friend,

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, choosing to voice her thoughts on this sleepover and not focus on her fears regarding her family,

"Because it's fun? It's what friends do…why are you even asking that? Are you not having fun?"

"No…I am—," she started, she did have fun, but the worry nagging her dimmed it all a bit, "But I…I get attacked once because of my stupid mistake, and I'm a mess. My hands are still shaking…I feel like Talons are leaping out at me every time I see a shadow, I just can't shake this fear. You're trying to make me feel better, feel safe and distracted from what happened even though this only happened once to me. You guys face things like this every day, you must think I'm a baby. You must think I'm so _weak,"_ Stephanie sat up, an almost angry look on her face,

"Don't you _dare_ say that. We're doing this because we're friends and you had a terrible experience today. We're doing this because when someone has a tough day, night, near-death experience…whatever…they need people who care about them with them. You shouldn't be alone because you don't have to be. You are _not_ a baby, you made no mistake, and you reacted the way anyone else in your situation would have. No…actually, you went above, and beyond that, _you_ stood up to them, you stood your ground, and you _fought_. That is _amazing_. That is commendable, and that is brave…not cowardly, not weak, not baby-ish at all," Livia sat up as well, pulling her knees to her chest and shook her head,

"You're just saying that…I should have taken a cab. _None_ of you would have let this happen. I'm such an _idiot!"_

"Don't say that. You are not alone. We make mistakes too. People idolize us…but they don't know us like you do. We're _human_. We mess up too. I started a gang war, Barbara opened the door, Jason went to Sarajevo, Damian's a fucking _assassin_ , Bruce is an asshole and lies to us a shit ton, Tim…Tim has probably fucked up _sometime_ in his life I'm sure and Dick…Dick pretended to be dead for months!"

"Wait what…when did that happen?" Livia asked, squinting over at her in confusion,

"Oh, how should I know? I wasn't there!" Stephanie exclaimed, "My point is we're not perfect, neither are you so quit thinking you have to get over this so soon. You're scared. That's okay,"

"But you guys are never like this…you always move on, you always get past this," Stephanie was silent for a moment before letting out a sigh,

"We don't. Not really. You know Darren has nightmares still, and he was raised to be an assassin since the age of _five_. So do I, so does Tim…so does everyone in this family…we don't just get past what we face so quickly. We may move through our daily lives as nothing bothers us…but it does. We do keep moving forward. We do keep going, but it's hard sometimes. Sometimes we do give in to the pain and the darkness and the fear…and that's okay too because we have people who are willing to distract us, willing to spend time with us, ready to pull us back to our feet…willing to help us through it.

"Pain is relative…physical, emotional, mental pain…all pain is relative. What may kill me might only wound you, and what may kill you might only wound me. Some things we get over easily, other things not so much. The same with you. You are not us, you are yourself and recovery is different for everyone," silence stretched as Stephanie seemed to consider something before she let out a small sigh and look Livia in the eyes a serious yet calm expression on her face,

"I said before that I started a gang war…I got caught in the middle of it and captured by Black Mask and his thugs…," her friend paused for a moment and in the silver light from the moon Livia could see her friend almost drift back to that moment…that time when she felt helpless and weak and afraid. Livia knew then and there that Stephanie understood…that the others understood and this wasn't to demean her, it was to help her…protect her…help her move forward from her small yet significant brush with death, "It felt like I died that day…perhaps I wanted to a little bit. But they saved me. They got me back and they made sure I was taken care of. They made sure I found a way to move forward, they made sure I kept going because that is what we do. That is how we find our inner strength. For the small things, the big things, and everything in between. For everything that hits us hard we get back up and push. We're not babying you, we're supporting you, we're pushing you back to normalcy because that's the only thing you can do when you're one of us,"

"I'm not though,"

"You fought back… _you_ are one of us. Perhaps you're no vigilante, but you fought. And that means something,"

"I'd say you're just saying that but you gave me a self-empowering rant at two in the morning…so I can't really say that," Stephanie cracked a smile and chuckled, the shadows from the past in her eyes easing a bit. They settled back down and lay in silence for a bit,

"I don't want to be a vigilante," Livia said quietly into the dark room,

"That's perfectly fine. You don't have to be. That's what we're for. It's not our choice to make you a hero, that's yours and it doesn't have to be what you want,"

"Thank you." Livia said, ending the conversation. She felt better. It made sense to her now. Stephanie was her friend and wanted to be there for her. They understood what she was going through and what she was feeling even if they were experienced in almost everything dangerous in life. But it still wasn't enough to get her to sleep. After tossing and turning far too long for her liking she kicked back the covers—without pulling them off Stephanie—and padded to the door. Perhaps a quick two in the morning walk will ease her nerves. She pulled back the door and nearly leapt out of her skin when something hard and heavy rolled back onto her feet,

"Darren?" she hissed with surprise. He lurched forward to his feet, twisting to face her while rubbing his eyes tiredly,

"Livia…I…um…I was just—,"

"Spying on us?" She asked, raising an eyebrow amused. Livia actually doubted that was the case, but seeing his expression at that statement was worth it. He looked so offended,

"Why would I do that?" he demanded. Livia stepped out of the bedroom, lightly closing the door so they wouldn't disturb Stephanie,

"Well why else were you outside our door?" Darren shifted from foot to foot, looking slightly uncomfortable or slightly embarrassed was more like it,

"I was…well…keeping watch,"

"Keeping watch?" Livia asked incredulously, as a grin she couldn't help stretched across her face. Darren nodded seriously, "But you were asleep!"

"I was resting my eyes," he said indignantly,

"You fell back when the door opened, you were asleep," she stated, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest, still grinning,

"I…I may have fallen asleep," Darren amended,

"Well either way the thought was sweet. But I also don't think that it was necessary, this place is a fortress. You probably have a crick in your neck for no reason," Darren frowned,

"I'm fine. And it _is_ necessary. Everyone is out tonight, searching for Talons while protecting your family and the city. They're almost stretched thin…if someone did get past the defenses you'd be in trouble. So I kept watch,"

"But you were asleep," Livia pointed out. Darren looked frustrated for a moment,

"I'm sure I would have heard them if they got in," he insisted, his frustration turning to guilt. Livia instantly felt bad,

"I wasn't saying you couldn't protect me. I was trying to be funny. I'm sorry," Darren let out a sigh,

"No, I am sorry. None of this should have happened…and I shouldn't have fallen asleep,"

"Did the nightmares get you?" Livia asked. Darren shook his head, a bitter smile replacing the guilt-ridden expression his face once held,

"No. I've been having the best sleep ever since the trial was decided, even if Shepard got out on bail. I have a restraining order and he has to go on trial…but the insomnia is still a problem. Once I'm asleep I'm fine—most of the time—it just takes a really long time for me to get to that point,"

"Well that's still a good thing. Baby steps," Livia replied brightly,

"What are you doing up?" Darren finally asked. It seemed he'd been wondering for a while why she was about to wander the dark mansion instead of blissfully asleep with her friend all slumber partied out. Livia frowned, feeling a small sense of dread fall over her shoulders at the prospect of explaining this to Darren—someone who of everyone she had met experienced much more than she could probably bear,

"I couldn't sleep," she said slowly, looking away, "I know it's stupid and while Stephanie gave me a fantastic lecture on why I shouldn't feel it is stupid…I still can't help feeling that I don't deserve to feel this…fear. This anticipation of something attacking me of Talons appearing in the shadows even though I know that isn't possible. I know I am safe but I just don't…feel it yet," Darren blinked at her,

"Of course I understand that. And of course it's understandable that you aren't over what has happened. It was scary, it was terrifying and even though we've seen a lot and have been through a lot, it was probably traumatizing for you. It's okay to feel that way. You know how long it took me just to be relatively okay here at the Manor,"

"I know…but it still feels small in comparison,"

"We understand. It's you who doesn't understand that it's okay for you to be worried and scared," Livia bit her lip. He was sounding like Stephanie right now and she of course knew both of them were right. She was sure Tim would give her the same sympathy if he were here as well. Even so she hugged herself as a phantom chill ran up her spine,

"If you want," Darren started, "You could bunk with me for the night," Livia dropped her arms, slightly surprised by the offer,

"Is…is that allowed?" Darren squinted at her as if confused,

"Why wouldn't it be?" he asked, "No one is here to stop us," he gestured to the empty and dark halls,

"Not to mention we've done it before at your house, and they do it with each other all the time," Livia knew what he meant, but she also knew that providing comfort from lack of sleep or nightmares probably wasn't _just_ what they were doing with their girlfriends or boyfriends. With a slight grin and blush at that thought, Livia took Darren's outstretched hand and followed him back to his room. Settling in the bed together such as they had at her own home in her own bed. With her head on his chest and his arms around her…she couldn't help but feel calmer, safer…at ease in the familiar embrace and the familiar comfort. Slowly but surely she drifted back to sleep, a pleasant and mercifully dreamless sleep.

* * *

A/N: A little bit of a short chapter-I split a chapter up because it was a little long and I felt it flowed and ended better if I split the chapter into two chapters. It's short but I hope you still liked it! Again I will keep you updated on when the next story in this series will be uploaded. As of now I don't know when that will be, I don't really have a set date in mind but in the last chapter I will let you all know what I've decided in regards to uploading the story...as well as what the title will be(I hope...still haven't thought one up yet). I am still open to suggestions for titles and I will be answering any questions you may have.

So as usual PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! I woul love to hear your thoughts and opinions, your questions and your concerns!

Next chapter on Thursday!


	45. Chapter 45

A/N: Second to last chapter! So excited! I also just wanted to apologize for unloading my life issues in the beginning of the last chapter. It was a stressful week but you guys don't need to hear about it.

Anyway, onto the chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter: 45

"Should I be concerned about this?" Dick demanded, probably a bit too loudly. He stood in the doorway of Darren's room, the light coming from the hallway settling on his cousin's sleeping form closely nestled up against Livia's sleeping form. Barbara shushed him from where she stood slightly behind him in the hallway,

"Not so loud," she whispered, "his hearing," Dick glanced back to scowl at her. Once they all returned from patrol they went to check on Stephanie and Livia, only to find the latter missing. Quickly they started searching the Manor to see if perhaps she decided to go exploring once sleep seemed not likely to come. Dick didn't blame her for that, he had done it himself as a child when he first came to Wayne Manor. They didn't have to search long or far. Dick found her shortly and this was the result,

"Oh, I _want_ him to hear this," he hissed to her. Babs was smiling and looking too much like she was enjoying this, "They are in a bed… _together!_ Boy and girl…in a _bed_ … _together!"_ he emphasized, gesturing wildly at the two of them still asleep surprisingly. Barbara rolled her eyes,

"They're sleeping," she replied, "It's nothing sinister. It's sweet. It's cute," she said it innocently enough but Dick still wasn't having it,

"They are _fifteen!"_ If this were Bruce catching Dick like this he'd have been in loads of trouble even if there hadn't been anything going on other than sleeping,

"Oh please! We were doing _much_ worse when we were their age. Don't just act like Darren is a child or like any other teenage boy. He is an _actual_ gentlemen,"

"But…agh… _should_ I be worried about this? Should I…I don't know, have a…er… _the_ talk with him?" he wasn't trying to sound as panicked as he was, but this was territory he hadn't expected to reach until he was in his thirties…maybe even later…or even not at all with the life they lived. Barbara laughed, actually _laughed_ at him,

"Don't laugh!" Dick nearly whined, he needed answers not amusement,

"I think he already knows what he needs to about that," she answered chuckling,

"That's almost worse! _Assassins_ teaching him about sex…what do they use instead of birds and bees? Owls and mice? Or Owls and knives or something even more lethal?!" Barbara lost it again, and Dick had to admit he was trying not to laugh himself…but still he was just caught again in an almost odd situation of trying to decide if he should be the adult responsible for a minor or the cousin of a fifteen year old who was having his first romantic relationship ever,

"You sound like a mortified father," he thought actual tears were coming out of the corner of Barbara's eyes,

"I _am_ a mortified father!" Dick growled, deciding that perhaps he could be both the guardian and the cousin in this situation. This only made her laugh even more,

"This is too much," she chortled, "Let them sleep. If you still want to you can talk to him in the morning. Right now he'd probably punch you for waking him up from a pleasant sleep," Barbara managed to say that relatively calmly but by how she looked at him Dick could tell she was one more outburst away from laughing loud enough to wake both of the _kids_ in the bed. Dick crossed his arms, glaring once more at the bed, both him and Barbara quieting abruptly as Darren let out a grunt and shifted onto his side wrapping an arm around Livia,

"Aww," Babs said, a smile on her face,

"Don't encourage them," he hissed, though he couldn't help but smile as well,

"Oh hush…come on, let's follow their lead and go to _bed_ ," she insisted, lacing her fingers through Dick's and pulling him with her down the hall to his bedroom. Dick with a roll of his eyes followed her willingly, lightly closing the door behind him as he did so.

* * *

Darren rolled back over and glared at the door, annoyed at Dick and Barbara for waking him up and then talking about him and Livia as if they didn't already know of his enhanced hearing. The conversation had been slightly mortifying and humorous…but Darren was too tired to fully appreciate it. Dick was taking his role as his guardian a little too seriously. They were still cousins, and yes he did have a say in what Darren did and how he lived his life, but he wasn't a young child…he still could make his own decisions. The fact that Dick actually worried about whether he should be worried about Darren and Livia in the same bed was comforting, it showed he actually cared about him which of course Darren already knew. But it was nice to just be reminded of that now and again. He sometimes forgot that these people were real and genuine and cared for others. And as of late Darren hadn't been surrounded by people who instilled those values in others. It was always good to be reminded that others cared.

He twisted onto his side to face Livia. Her hair was tossed over her face, falling out of a loose braid, and he lightly pulled the dark strands away, drinking in her sleeping face. A smile graced his lips. Perhaps even with the threat of the Court, they could still be together. They could still be something worthwhile. It was what Darren hoped was possible. Despite everything, he brought upon her and her family, even with the potential that his involvement with her hadn't spurred the Court of Owls' interest in her and even with the possibility that her power could be what ended the Court of Owls once and for all…perhaps they both had a future together. Darren was never the one to hope for such things. It had never gone well for him before. The constant disappointment was hard to get used to, but not impossible. Now he was finding that hope was something to believe in. Even if he was still skeptical of the outcome.

Livia let out a deep breath, her fingers curled into a fist by her head twitching unconsciously. Darren could hear her heartbeat, a strong rhythmic beat. He could hear the pulse under her skin, she practically sung with life. And Darren would make sure it never stopped. Livia wanted to use her power to fight the Court of Owls. She wanted to create weapons to stop the Talons, she wanted to experiment with her abilities and possibly kill herself in the process of saving him from their clutches. She wanted to protect her family from these monsters…and as much as Darren wanted to tell her no. To try and stop her from fighting the assassins that he himself feared…he knew he couldn't do that. He couldn't take her choice away. All his life Darren had been barred from choice and he couldn't allow that to happen to others.

As much as it pained him, he had to let her do this. He had to let her try this. She wouldn't be on her own. Livia had him. He had her. She had Tim and Stephanie just as he did. She has all the resources and allies he did and together they could find a solution to end the Court of Owls. But if they failed. If Livia's ability couldn't be siphoned into a weapon. If she was just as vulnerable as her family was…then he would do whatever it took to stop the Owls and Talons from hurting her and her family.

Darren would beg, he would plead. He would make a deal with the devil if he had to prevent anything from happening to her, to her family and to this city. Because eventually the Court will realize how much he cared for her…and most importantly…most _dangerously_ …how much he cared about the people of this city. People he hardly knew. People he had never even met. They were all innocents. And he would do whatever it took to keep them safe.

Livia said he could be a savior for this city. Gotham was his home as much as it was her's now. And Gotham was what Darren would keep safe.

He would be their savior.

Even if it meant soiling everything he worked so hard to achieve since leaving the Nest.

Even if it meant destroying himself in the process.

* * *

A/N: Hope you liked this chapter, I know I enjoyed writing the first half of it. I know perhaps some of you guys are upset the chapters are getting shorter/are short but that does tend to happen as a story winds down. As it happens I was going to add another chapter before the epilogue but decided against it beause I don't think it would have been in Darren's perspective, and this is Darren's story so I felt that the last actual chapter should be Darren's thoughts, feelings and reflections. So, hope you liked it!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! I would really love to hear more of your thoughts of this story/series as a whole as well as on this chapter. I will also answer any questions you guys may have in the next chapter...since it is the last chapter it's the last time I will be able to do that so get them written down in a review!

Next chapter on Thursday!


	46. Epilogue

A/N: OMG, FINAL CHAPTER! I am so happy to get here finally! I loved every second of writing this story; even when I was in a slump or when I felt that the chapters weren't that great, I truly enjoyed the journey of writing this story. And to think I've spent almost a whole year-I posted the first chapter last May-working on this story. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing and I hope you all loved this story as much as I have.

Now, I highly recommend reading the Author's Note at the end of this chapter as it will give you some information on the next part of Darren's story. Additionally, you can definitely ask as many questions as you need to in the reviews I will respond to them personally...but everyone else will have to wait until I start the next part to read the answers...so sorry in advance for that.

Now, onto the chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy! For the last time for a while!

* * *

Epilogue

As Bruce stepped through the Zeta platform, he was greeted by a giant hologram of Earth, a dark glowing spot fixated on a piece of the map, while another floated nearby a similar speck ebbing and flowing erratically in a similar location. Bruce stopped in his approach, frowning slightly at the globes,

"You know when I asked for your assistance with this, I thought I'd have my solution faster, Mr. Detective," Zatanna muttered, not glancing back at him as she studied the globes with her arms crossed. Bruce let out a sigh, his mind wandering back to the manor, wondering what they were deciding to do about Livia's situation. He was sure they would probably do what he would do, Bruce had taught them well, they knew what they could and couldn't do for the problem Livia and the Court presented to them. It was precarious, especially with her abilities and especially with how little the rest of her family knew about the people she associated with. If her family knew more about their second lives, they could allow them to live with them until the threat of the Court has passed but they knew nothing, and while that also somewhat protected them, it also didn't provide them an in to protect the family.

Not only that but something about Livia's abilities bothered him. They reminded him of something, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. And while she seemed like a sweet and caring girl, having that intuitive feeling about her powers classified her as somewhat of a threat. He knew little about her, except what others had told him and there wasn't much else to go off of. Her parents were difficult to find, and once he did, there wasn't much significant about them. But files and papers could be falsified; things could be hidden, especially when magic was involved.

Magic was something he couldn't control or account for. It was something that couldn't be hacked or reprogrammed, and it was ever evolving. Magic was tricky and dangerous if in the wrong hands. Bruce knew to trust the Baudelaire girl to a certain degree. He couldn't control all of what Darren told her. Tim and Stephanie were a bit more cautious about what they said to others with less experience or knowledge of their night lives, but Darren was still new to this. He could lie exceptionally well-too well even-but not when he felt the other person was trustworthy. On the other hand, her powers were another story. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. She was a young girl with raw magic, and no real way to understand just what she could do, or change or destroy with a thought. Not to mention she didn't have to speak to utilize her abilities. Every magician Bruce had ever faced needed to speak…Livia didn't, and that fact bothered him,

"Well?" Zatanna asked expectantly, turning to face him finally. She looked agitated, as if not being able to solve this mystery was bothering her. Almost as if this problem was consuming her. She looked tired and antsy, mostly annoyed and eager to end this problem as soon as possible. She had faced many magicians in her time of crime fighting, but none had vexed her as much as Klarion had. He was the embodiment of Chaos, its personification. He yielded destruction and despair, destroying everything in his path to get what he wanted. He was virtually a trickster demon but with a more grounded foot in the world. She has only faced him a few times in the past, yet he has always escaped, leaving her with the broken pieces to fix,

"Klarion's not in Gotham," Bruce replied simply. That was it. There was nothing else to say. It may be blunt, and it may not align with what Zatanna's findings were showing. But there was no indication that the witch boy was in Gotham,

"That can't be possible," Zatanna growled, turning back to the maps, "This shows that it's not possible," she gestured to them, muttering under her breath so they'd spin to face them,

"What do they show?" Bruce asked, standing next to her and observing the giant hologram globes floating side by side,

"That one," Zatanna pointed to the left, "Is Earth-16, it shows Klarion there wrecking havoc on the poor unfortunate souls of that Earth. The one on the right is our Earth. It's the same aura; it's the same kind of magic…yet Klarion is on Earth-16,"

"He is the embodiment of Chaos…he may be trying to trick you into thinking he's here,"

"It could be that," Zatanna amended though she didn't sound sure, "While this showing of his magic on our Earth is strong and powerful…it fades. It goes away from time to time before flaring again. Almost like it goes out of use before being brought back full force. While on Earth-16 it's constant,"

"If you know that, then why did you need me?"

"Because while it fades, it is still powerful and it is still very authentic. Klarion is many things, he's powerful, he's evil, and he is practically a Demon…but he can't be in two planes of existence at once. It's one of the few limits on his power. Which is why this discovery is so important if he found a way to be in two planes of existence…of the _multiverse_ …at once then that's a huge problem for multiple worlds at the same time. But the fading is odd…almost like it's a spark of his power...it's still super powerful, I can sense that. Yet it's not him all the same. I don't know what it means, and I just can't figure it out," Bruce frowned…a thought forming. It seemed impossible, yet at the same time something that was equally as likely…he wasn't one to dabble in the supernatural, but the one thing he truly understood with magic was that while many things were possible—too many in his opinion—there was a limit…yet creativity was never the wrong way to go…especially with rogue magicians,

"When did this flare-up last? How long ago," Zatanna shrugged,

"I contacted you as soon as it flared, _you_ were the one who took forever getting here," Bruce rolled his eyes, ignoring the dig. They didn't have time for this,

"There was a situation back home," Bruce stated slowly…gears turning in his head…a truth patching it's way to the forefront of his mind, "When was the first time you sensed this kind of magic in Gotham?"

"It was large, a sudden flare of power…it gave me a headache, I even almost passed out. I portalled to Gotham as soon as I could, but it had already started to fade as soon as I arrived,"

 _"When?"_ Bruce insisted, trying not to snap. He didn't need the whole story, just the date so he could confirm what he thought he already knew,

"December nineteenth," Bruce nodded, glancing back at the holographic globes in thought. Wondering if this was worth bringing up…there was a chance what he'd deducted was impossible. While he wasn't an expert in the supernatural, he tried to be well versed in its rules…and this didn't fit in with what, as far as he knew, was possible. Zatanna mimicked him, looking up at the fading glow of the magic used in Gotham just hours ago before glancing at him, narrowing her eyes,

"You know something," she muttered, "What aren't you telling me?"

"You only track Klarion by his magic, nothing else correct?"

"What else is there to track? The guy bounces around from earth to earth so fast, and so often it's like he has multiverse ADD," Zatanna replied with an eye roll, "When he's here I deal with him…but I can't do anything if I can't find him. He wasn't where this magic was. I'd ask Dr. Fate…but, well he's a busy man," Bruce didn't miss the hint of irritation in her voice but still didn't focus on it either,

"What if you're not tracking the _entirety_ of Klarion's magic…what if you're just tracking a _piece_ of it," the moment he said it Zatanna stiffened, almost like she'd been electrocuted. She stood up ramrod straight, not leaning casually on the metal railing as she had when talking to him before and with a wave of her hand dissipated the globes into nothingness,

"Is that possible?" Bruce asked turning to face her, wondering if this meant what he thought it did. Zatanna almost looked shell-shocked,

"A Baudelaire Witch," she hissed in awe, yet still almost as if saying a curse. Bruce narrowed his eyes this time. So he had been right…but the implications of this were limitless…what this meant he did not know. He needed more information, and he needed to decide how to address this new underlying situation that was Livia Baudelaire,

"What do you know about the Baudelaire Witches?" Bruce asked Zatanna sighed, looking him in the eyes, his dark grey to her light blue,

"Not much. But what I do know, isn't anything good."

* * *

A/N: And...there...it...is! Hope you liked this epilogue, hope it got you all somewhat surprised and a bit confused. Now as for the whole Klarion introduction...I'm gonna be changing his characterization a bit to make him fit into my version of the DC Universe. You'll see that more in the next story I'm sure ; )

Now for the next part of Darren's story. It will probably be the last of the Nobody's Weapon series. I am still working on a title, I want it to be PERFECT, so I can't say what it will be called. I am still taking suggestions for titles by the way.

I am on chapter six currently, I haven't started it, but once I do start up writing the next chapter, it will be the sixth. I am going on Spring break soon, so I will have a decent amount of time to write or pick up my pace on writing at least a little bit so I have decided that the Thursday after I get back to my University from break is when I will start posting the next story. That will be March 22nd.

Thanks again for reading! Remember to REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

And I will post again on the 22nd!


End file.
